


When All is Said and Done

by dramady, edonyx



Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, American Idol RPF, lambliff
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:42:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 36,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/edonyx/pseuds/edonyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Not all who Wander are lost. Some, it seems, are found.<br/><b>Authors' Notes</b>: Posted in chapters off-LJ, complete. This work does discuss judeo-christian theology as its foundation, dosed liberally with a Miltonian twist. It is not meant to offend, but simply used as a jumping-off point. Title taken from <a href="http://www.6lyrics.com/music/vertical_horizon/lyrics/all_is_said_and_done1.aspx">Vertical Horizon's All is Said and Done</a>.</p><p> </p><p><b>Disclaimer:</b> This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.</p><div class="center">
<i>I need to move through this<br/>The waiting just kills me<br/>Whatever you do is on you,<br/>I'm washed clean....</i>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The boy's name is Nathan Harriday. He's thirteen, his birthday is July 13th (the combination of numbers is not a mistake. Nothing is by chance. It's difficult for humans to understand.)

Nathan Harriday's life is a living Hell. His father has chosen alcohol to be true to, rather than to those he was betrothed. Alisha Harriday left the home when Nathan was seven and cried when she told her son she couldn't take him with her. Since then, Nathan has borne the brunt of his father's alcohol-induced rage. Even a broken arm hadn't alerted Nathan's teachers that something wasn't right at home. The boy goes to school and goes home, locking himself in his bedroom, a room covered with posters of musical groups, video games and films. He sits hunched over his desk and he draws, pencil digging into the paper, drawings bespeaking a hopelessness and futile rage.

Adam was given Nathan's case when the boy turned twelve, when his Destiny was revealed. Children should not suffer. Often, Adam would find himself sitting nearby. He wouldn't interfere any more than necessary, working only to ease the boy's suffering. And the boy _suffers_. Not for much longer, Adam wishes to croon to him. Not much longer. Then the cradle of Love will hold him, warm and safe.

But the thing is, Tommy got the same case. It showed up on his iTunes in the podcast he gets with his name attached, and, well, here he is. This poor kid is getting beaten across hell's half acre, and is it _really_ fair to prolong it? It's not. Honestly. So he makes little suggestions to Nathan, a band here, a book there, a movie, whatever. Influences. The voice Up There might be all Holy and Loud, but a whisper is more... personal. A secret shared between him and the kid.

Today, just like any other day, needs to start with Starbucks. Tommy pushes his sunglasses up on his nose, earbuds in his ears with music coming out tinny and blaring, and it's a good thing he's got those fucking sunglasses on, because as soon as he pushes the door open, Holy _Jeez_, it's bright. It's... Adam. Oh, great.

"We need to talk."


	2. Chapter 2

Humans brush past them and each time, Adam can feel the flash of what they feel, the fear, the loss, the _hurt_. There is so much of it. But he sits, holding a cup of hot cocoa to feel the heat of it in his hands. "He's suffering enough as it is. You needn't add to it."

"Can I ask you a favor? A big one? Can you tone down the glare a little?" Tommy's got a black venti one-bad-mothertrucker with _way_ too much caffeine in it. He's fairly certain that he looks shadowy to Adam, wings pulled tight and almost prim to his back and tilted to the side so he can sit easily in the chair. How does Adam keep his wings so _white?!_ As much as it makes Tommy's eyes itch, he can't not look.

"But on Nathan's front? Are you honestly going to let that kid get the fuck beaten out of him for however much time he's got left? Because that _sucks_. I'm just... giving him a little bit of control. Letting him do it on his terms." Damn, Adam's hot chocolate smells good. Each person that touches him gets a suggestion of their own, as casual as this: _Hi. How are ya? How's it going. Hey there._

"_Stop it_." For a moment, Adam's glow gets impossibly brighter. "Stop it. Restrain yourself if only while I am sitting across from you." His lip curls in disgust. "How you can stand yourself is something I can't understand." An abomination. Walking away from the Light. "The boy can have some peace; I provide that for him were you not working against me. Leave him _be_."

"Only if you do, too. But you know you can't, because it's been Written that he's going to die. Man." Tommy shakes his head. "I hate when it's kids. That _sucks._ When was the last time you were here, anyway? You've got the Holy Roller Voice going on. You want to split a sandwich with me? I'm kind of hungry." The curl of Adam's lip makes Tommy just a little bit uncomfortable. Just a _little,_ and his own feathers ruffle, just a bit. When Tommy had made his Choice, his feathers had gone gradually from white to dark charcoal grey. "I'm thinking sliced chicken if you're cool with that."

Without a word, Adam rises and leaves. No one notices this except for the dark one, though for a moment, the girl behind the counter pauses, her head down, and she tucks her hair behind her right ear when she smiles.


	3. Chapter 3

School has been out for an hour now, but for some reason, Nathan is lingering on his way home from school, wandering his way to the playground at the elementary school to sit on a swing, his sneakers scuffing in the dirt. Adam sits next to him. When his wings flutter, both he and Nathan are buffeted forward just a bit. But when the dark one appears on the other side of the boy. Adam bites back a sigh. "_Please don't_," he says in a voice only Others can hear. "_Allow him a moment_."

"_Fine._" It sounds like a sigh, and Tommy appears on the other side of Adam, instead. "_So, how's it going?_" Again, Tommy's wings are pulled fussily up to his back so they don't drag in the dirt when he sits on the swing. "_That's a nice bruise he's got there on his arm. Don't you think he deserves to have a choice?_" Tucking his bangs back, Tommy leans in to get Adam's attention. "_I'm just doing my job, okay? I don't like the idea of not having a choice in things. That... things are one specific way because that's how it is. Let's get a coffee, okay? He'll be fine by himself. I'm with you, which means I'm not with him._" Simple, right? Because the idea of making a kid kill himself is _really_ shitty, no matter how it's dressed up.

"_There is misery here. It's not in the way for him to have a choice._" Adam watches Nathan who is making designs in the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. "_If everyone had a choice, then there is nothing on which to rely but Free Will._" Of which came the Original Sin. "... _I don't like coffee._"

Seriously, Tommy could throttle Adam. The point _is_ that the kid's miserable, so the best thing to do is cut it short and not have him get _beaten up_ like that. Tommy reaches over and touches Adam's arm with a fingertip, showing him _exactly_ how good Free Will might feel. That _can't_ be a sin, okay? That's just unfair. "_Hot chocolate then. I won't talk to the kid. But I can talk to you._" Tommy's grin is pointy and bright, one of the scant reminders of what he used to be.

Adam pulls away as if burned, hissing. For a moment, the skin the demon touched is red, then it fades. "_Why do you want to talk to me?_" He is reminded of the second time they'd met, he and Tommy. The young woman had been eighteen and as beautifully ethereal as any Angel. When Adam had taken her hand and led her away, he had felt the slightest flush of shame at feeling _victory_. He didn't think of the second time they'd met. "_What do you wish to talk about?_"

Tommy remembers that victory, how smug Adam had seemed, how _pretty_ in the proof that sometimes Tommy doesn't get his way. The first time, Tommy had gotten his way. And things had been weird and tense between himself and Adam, working closely to counter each other toward the very end. He gets to his feet and ruffles his wings, tipping his head for Adam to follow. That way they can _talk_ instead of using that language that gives Tommy a vague headache. "_Please? Pretty please?_"

Reluctantly, Adam stands, looking over to Nathan for a moment. With a flash of his wings, the boy is moved forward again and he nearly laughs; Adam's smile is soft, but it fades when he turns to Tommy. "You didn't tell me what you wish to speak of," he says, looking down at the green of the grass under his feet; a small wonder, each blade of grass.

"I'm having issues with Nathan." Tommy blows out a sigh. Grass makes him sneeze. "I keep thinking that this whole thing is shit, you know? He's _thirteen._ Can't you talk to your Boss about this? Isn't that where the decision's made? It just... _sucks._ I hate seeing him get beat up by his dad... it could be over so _easy._" Tommy looks over toward the boy on the swing, then directly at Adam. Of course his eyes are blue, just like the sky, but Tommy's seen them dark and slatey, too. "I just... it doesn't feel right to push him, but what you're doing doesn't feel right, either. Don't you care that he's unhappy?"

"Of course I care!" The retort is fast and sharp and Adam's wings flex, spreading wide before settling again. "Of course I care, but it is _Written_ \- "

"_Fuck_ what's Written!" Tommy throws his hands up. "Has it occurred to you that this is one of the reasons I made my Choice? Because your Boss thinks it's okay to kill kids in really shitty ways. I can't change the fact that that _kid_ is going to die. But at least I can let him pick how he does it. _God._" With another sigh, Tommy's hands come down onto his hips, wincing back from the flash of Adam's wings. "Please? Don't do that. It hurts my eyes and that's not okay."

_That's not okay_. The irony of that statement nearly makes Adam smile, flash of anger gone as quickly as it had appeared. "My 'boss' doesn't relish what happens. The world," he says, arms spread wide as he looks around. "Is a vast and complicated place. He has his reasons and we are not to question. Please don't take His name in vain. That is not okay."

Tommy grins at Adam, wondering if Adam even remembers what it was like to be able to make a decision, or if he knows how to make a mistake and learn from it. Aw, Angels are perfect, who's Tommy kidding? "Yeah, it's vast and complicated and whatever it is that He created that evolved into humanity doesn't realize that they're in a life with _no_ hope. That everything they are is just... pre-planned. It doesn't have to be that way. Do you like knowing you're going to wear white every day when you get up? What if you wanted to wear, I don't know. Turquoise?" _God-God-God, you can't hear me think it._

Brows knitted in confusion tinged with amusement, Adam replies, "it is as it should be." Turquoise? Like the Azure sea? He can picture it, clearly. He could be there in a thought. "Am I to ask you now if you enjoy wearing black?"

"I love wearing black, are you kidding? I never have to think about anything not matching." Tommy tugs at the hem of his t-shirt. At least he can wear jeans and t-shirts and Chucks and his Creepers if he wants. No suits, thank You-Know-Who. "I'm just... I feel like I'm fighting this. And I don't know how to feel about it. Are _you_ okay with letting him die?" The last case they'd worked together had been pretty easy; the person they'd been assigned to last time had gone with Adam, but Tommy had been the cause. He'd convinced the killer to pull the trigger, scoring one for his side, anyway. "Do you want to get a burger? Do you even _eat_ burgers? Or are they off limits because they're like, gluttony or something?"

"We don't need to eat. You eat because you are unfulfilled." The answer comes easily; Adam hardly needs to think on it. "There is nothing we wish for, nothing we desire. It is as it shall be." But he looks back at the boy, so still as to be unmoving. "He will have peace. If you have your way, he will suffer eternally. That is ... he doesn't deserve that."

"You don't _understand._ It's not like that. It's not like Constantine or The Prophecy or the Devil's Rain. Do you even _know?_" It's Tommy's turn to flash his wings, a frustrated, sharp flap that sounds almost like the backfire of a car. Nathan looks up and Tommy disappears. To find burgers. And to not see Adam in all of his glowing strength.


	4. Chapter 4

Tommy feels Adam before actually seeing him, walking behind Nathan into Barnes and Noble. He's looking at a photography book called _Death Scenes_, purely out of curiosity. None of these were any of his cases, and it makes him wonder how the Others carry out their respective tasks. He warns Adam he's here with a flap of his wings, and he's got a hot chocolate ready when he beckons Adam over. Neutral ground. "How's he doing?"

Adam doesn't answer, looking away. Nathan sports new bruises and can barely look up. Were it Adam's place, there would be one sweep of a blazing sword and the pitiful excuse for a man who is Nathan's father would _fall_ down where the fires burn eternal. He has to consciously unfist his hands. Were it his place, he would touch the boy, remove his pain. _Soon_, he whispers. Soon. His eyes, when he looks to Tommy, are that slate gray.

Not soon _enough._ Which is what Tommy's trying to tell Adam. That Nathan doesn't have to have his dad beating on him anymore. That he doesn't have to worry or feel pain. It's not all fire burning eternal, either, Adam. Jeez. The _really_ bad guys? Yeah, they get the fire and brimstone and wailing and all that crap, but for someone like Nathan, there's Elysia. Peace in what Adam would call Hell. "I'm watching him, too. You just... don't see me. It's hard not to see you."

"Hell is not the answer," Adam tells Tommy again, but his face is creased with concern. "Soon, he will have peace eternal." The angel looks down then, eyes closing after a moment. "He will have suffered enough. There is a place for him. Waiting."

"You're in a book store. Check out the New Age section if it won't burn your holy peepers. It's not all hellfire and brimstone, by the way." Tommy stretches his legs out, resting his feet on the table across from him. "He's looking at the graphic novels in case you're worried." He sips his coffee, blowing words to be carried off the ends of his fingers to give Nathan an idea of what he should read. What would give him the best ideas. When his attention turns back to Adam, Tommy leans back in his chair and crosses his ankles. "Do you miss having a choice? Or is it an easier existence just... to be told what to do? To follow instead of lead?"

"If you have any respect for anything, you won't do that when I'm sitting right here." Adam's teeth are gritted again. "You imply that you have a choice. If you have a choice, demonstrate that. You are as much a pawn as I am, and for whom? The one who threw it all away. Do you not know the story? He was the Father's most favored angel, but he was too _proud_. The sky opened up and he fell for days. As did you. And for what." He looks toward the boy, hand waving in the air for just a moment before he turned back to Tommy. "If you have a choice, help _me_. Don't banish him to Hell."

"I have choices, though." Barnes and Noble isn't exactly where Tommy wants to be talking theology, especially when their case is wandering around by himself. There are lots of things that Tommy could influence right now, except... none of them feel right, and even when he'd sent a whisper Nathan's way a moment ago, it'd been halfhearted. Even Adam could have seen that if he wasn't being so _righteous._ "He made his Choice - threw it away, as you say - because your Boss doesn't respect humans. He can go back and forth through time and know what's going to happen to His children, and yet... he lets them suffer. Earthquakes and famine and _disease._ That's not all my team, by the way." Tommy watches for Nathan to reappear in an open part of the store before taking a sip of his coffee, thinking about Adam's final words. "How would I help you? How _could_ I?"

"That is your Free Will that you're such an advocate for," Adam reminds Tommy. "Humanity has free will and because of it, there is suffering. Where there is choice, there is misery." But the angel looks over to where the boy now sits, staring at nothing. "We can ... It's not much longer. Nathan will be happy. He will have peace." Adam turns back to Tommy, his eyes now a clearer blue. "Help me get him there."

"I hate seeing him like that." It's said that Tommy's Boss is The Deceiver, the Father of Lies, but that isn't the case. It's a different side of the truth, and the truth of _this_ matter is, there's a boy who's suffering, to what end? His own end, the end of his own life, and there's nothing fair about that, no matter what Side either of them happen to be on. "I can influence the father. And trust me, it wasn't _my_ doing that led him to drinking. I just need you to know that. I give people the will to death, not temptation." His wings ruffle again, visible only to Adam's eyes, and Tommy looks at Nathan. "Look, if I'm going to help you, I need you to help me, too. You have _no idea_ what kind of deep shit I'm going to be in if I get caught. So we've gotta do this the right way. Can we meet somewhere else, later? Or do you have a holy bedtime?"

"You were an angel once. You know the answer to all of this," Adam answers, eyes rolling. Unfamiliar sensations find him. He knows he shouldn't trust a demon. And yet, at the same time, if it means peace for the boy ... is it worth it?

These aren't things Adam is used to considering. His mission is clear.

And yet the angel hears himself say, "the park around the corner from Nathan's house."

"I was an angel millennia ago," Tommy answers, and while Adam rolls his eyes, Tommy's own flash red, indignant and sullen. "I'll meet you there at midnight." That way the boy will be home, asleep, hopefully away from the rage of his father. With that, he straightens, shaking his wings out much the same way a bird would flutter water from its feathers, and touches Adam's shoulder, briefly. "You're welcome for the hot chocolate, too. I thought they taught you manners Up There. I'll see you later, Adam." There's that smile again, one that would sit easily on the face of the angel Tommy used to be.

For a moment, a tinge of gray spreads along the edge of Adam's wings before it fades away.


	5. Chapter 5

The night is dark and Nathan is asleep when Adam sits in a swing again. He's looking up at the sky; the clouds hide the stars, but he can imagine them. He knows, though, when Tommy arrives and he lowers his gaze. "Thank you. For the hot chocolate." Even though he didn't drink it. There is a hint of a smile on the angel's face.

"No problem." Tommy sits on the swing next to Adam, nearly invisible in the dark with his all-black sexy ensemble of hoodie and jeans and platform creepers. What, just because he's a demon doesn't mean he's not self-conscious about his height, okay? He's quiet for a minute, swinging back and forth just enough that he can leave trails from the toes of his shoes in the dirt, then asks, "Why don't you ever look at me? Is it still weird?"

"I'm not sure what you mean. I look at you." What a strange statement. Adam casts back to think of their exchanges of late. "I'm looking at you now." To anyone who might see him, they would see Adam clad in what seemed to be a white material that drapes. And yes, he wears pants, not a robe or anything like that. It's not practical. "What did you want to discuss?"

"You look at me and then you look away. Like I'm going to tempt you, or something." Which, okay, wouldn't be the first time. And Adam had resisted! "I wanted to talk about how we could work together. I mean, if I could, I wouldn't let him die at all, you know? But." In the dark, Tommy shakes his head. "But now he's going to end up with horrible fashion sense, like you." It's a gentle jibe, and much like Adam's wings had shadowed themselves briefly in the bookstore, Tommy's shimmer white, if only as fleeting and faint as a shooting star. The thing he used to be, the thing he barely remembers being, now.

"That you're concerned with fashion indicates how far you've fallen." But that soft smile is back at the edges of Adam's mouth. While the night might be viewed as the time at which the dark forces might have power, but that isn't always true. He can feel the quiet at the moment.

When Tommy had attempted to seduce Adam, it had been the middle of the human's day, as a matter of fact.

"You are going to help me," Adam realizes, turning again to look at Tommy. "Thank you."

"Aw, it's nothing. I just... the longer I do it, the less I'm into it. _Some_ of it is crazy fun, you know? Like, when it's someone going to the electric chair because they were a serial killer? _That's_ gratifying. I know your Boss just sort of lets us do our thing when it comes to people like that." He sticks his feet out in front of him, looking at the toes of his shoes, dusty now. "I _like_ looking good. I don't know what kind of glamour you put up when you're around people, but I kinda like just being me." Tommy pushes off the dirt with his heels, swinging back and forth with a little more force. "You want me to do something about the father? And you keep your Light around Nathan?"

"I can't," Adam says, feeling vaguely ill. "I have my mission. I cannot veer from it. I ... what you do is something I cannot be a part of." He flutters his wings some, as if clearing the air around them. "I am to make sure that Nathan comes with me on the third day of March. Tell me." He turns back to Tommy. "Do you ever wish you ... hadn't?"

"Do you ever wish you had?" Tommy made his Choice and exists inside of it, even when sometimes, yeah, it makes him feel a little bit like a dog turd. They aren't supposed to have conscience, they are merely tools from Above and Below sent to maintain a balance of sorts. That's what they're told, at least, but both Tommy and Adam know that it's a contest of who will have the most souls when humanity comes to a close. And it's not in 2012, if anyone's curious. "I wanted to have the choice. I wanted to be able to do what I wanted, when I wanted, however I wanted. I just... _wanted._" Pride, lust, anger. "I didn't think it was fair how He was treating His children. But... some people _don't_ deserve what comes at them from _either_ side, you know?"

Adam is already shaking his head as Tommy speaks. He never wished to be anything but what he is. "My purpose is clear." His face, too, is serene. "Have you gotten what you wanted? Has it been what you hoped it would be?" There is, he knows ultimate Justice. God's justice. He knows Tommy knows that, too, so he doesn't say it.

"I do what's told of me. Just like I did when I worked Up There." Adam's serene - well duh, he's an angel, and unless he's Seraphim, there's no call for him to get violent - but Tommy's expression is bothered, confused. Conflicted. "You know you wouldn't exist if it wasn't for me. And vice versa, before you start spouting about God's infinite wisdom and blah, blah." He pulls his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie. "Sometimes I wish I hadn't. Like, right now. Does that make you feel any better, knowing that?"

"I do not take pleasure in your discontent." But at this moment, Adam is looking over at Tommy, not looking away. "There is always the hope of Redemption," he says softly. And he reaches out, fingertip touching Tommy's knee. The glow emanates from his fingers.

No, Tommy's not surprised that Adam doesn't do schadenfreude. He clears his throat and toes at the dirt again, lifting his chin so he can look at Adam in the dark. And Adam _glows._ He's got this radiant _thing_ about him (holy aura, his brain provides unhelpfully) that, despite what Tommy _is_, he can't resist. "There's no way I'd get back into His good graces," he mutters, feeling warmth leak through his jeans from Adam's touch. "I fell too far. And I like... this. Playing guitar and being on the terrestrial plane with people. Smoking. Drinking. Going to shows or movies or whatever. It's as close to being human as I've ever wanted, and..." He shakes his head. "Maybe that's why this kid is bothering me so much. Because I've spent too long here that I can't help but give a shit."

"That you care means something." Adam looks at his hand on Tommy's knee for a moment before he pulls it away, returning his gaze to the sky. "Without Love, there is nothing. Even in times of great distress, there is always Love. It is perhaps more difficult to find."

"You seem to think that we don't feel," Tommy says softly, his attention shadowy and dark on Adam, and how he's nearly lambent in the dark. With something like shock, Tommy realizes he wants Adam to touch him again, to feel that warmth that he's just not used to anymore. "Just because we're not like you anymore doesn't mean that we're cold or just... don't feel anything. It's just in the interest of giving people control over their own lives. If you could, wouldn't you choose when it was your time to die? Wouldn't you want that?" Adam looks at the sky, Tommy looks at the ground. "How do we get him to his date without making anyone suspicious?"

There is nothing that the Father doesn't know in his wisdom. Adam's expression is still peaceful as he looks over at Tommy. If he were to die, it would be when it is meant to happen. There is a peace in that that perhaps Tommy doesn't understand. "Forgive me," he says of the accusation. "I know you care about Nathan. What do you need to do to not arouse suspicion?" Adam of course knows that God sees all. Perhaps He even knew that Adam would be sitting here with a demon, reminding Adam to resist temptation, of the glory of the One True Way.

It could also be that He put Adam and Tommy together to make Adam more tolerant to how life _really_ is. It's not all doors painted in blood and sea-splitting, okay? "So what are _you_ going to do?"

God can be cruel, there is no argument there. When necessary. But Adam and Tommy don't seem to be communicating effectively. Adam turns bright eyes on the demon. "I am going to do what I have been doing. I am going to guide Nathan toward his destiny and toward Peace."

"So I end up with a mark against me and you come out looking like, well, the angel." Tommy gets off the swing and wanders around the swing area, still talking. It's just... sitting next to Adam, under the scrutiny of those blue eyes, that makes Tommy uncomfortable, what makes him remember the temptation he'd laid out for Adam on the last case they'd worked together. "I don't know how that's fair at all." Above, clouds creep across the night sky, first blurring the stars, then obscuring them entirely. "And what happens to me when it's my time to go back and give Them an update?"

"Instead, then, of asking me what I will do, you should tell me what it is you would ask of me." From the swing, Adam watches Tommy. "It isn't in our way to ... negotiate." It isn't difficult for Adam to remember the tone and texture of Tommy's skin; surprisingly pale, looking something like silk in the sun.

"Keep him safe." That much is obvious. "I will, too, as much as I can without, you know. Making it look like I'm helping you." Again, Tommy's feathers shimmer, but in the dark, Tommy doesn't notice. "I can't influence the father the way I'd want to..." By convincing him to get behind a wheel, encourage him to go for a ride where it's deserted to get his mind off of the wife that left him and the son that reminds him of her. From there, Tommy would step back and let the father's lack of sense guide him over a guardrail, or into a tree or a post. That'd be... _good._

And then Tommy wonders how it is that angels can have freckles, and that brings him sharply back to reality, or whatever this hinterland between worlds could be called. "I'm going. We'll talk tomorrow." Best to get away before he does something _incredibly_ unwise.

Without a word, Adam nods, looking out over the park in the dark.


	6. Chapter 6

A month passes like that. Adam thinks he sees the slightest easing of Nathan's shoulders, in the lines around his eyes. He doesn't see Tommy, but then he's not particularly looking. His mission is clear. But on the night of a rare smile from the boy, Adam looks around and in the distance, he can see the dark smudge of the demon's wings. And he nods.

It's one of Tommy's great talents to become the great Unseen. He watches Adam with Nathan _constantly_, nearly invisible at the bus stop across from Nathan's school, dark sunglasses shading his eyes from the sun, a cigarette perched on his lower lip. Another shadow in the dark while Nathan sleeps, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. When Adam _does_ see him, Tommy answers by raising a hand in greeting. Mutual respect, or something like that. He tries to keep Nathan's father in the bars instead of the liquor cabinet at home, just to give the boy some quiet and sanctity at home. Sanctity; isn't that something that those Up There work for? Something that's sacred and good?

Tommy keeps his distance on the night of the smile until Nathan's resting. Then he shows up at Adam's side with a box of curly fries. "Help yourself. They're _awesome._"

"I - " Adam doesn't continue his thought. Tommy doesn't need to eat either. But Adam takes a fry, studying it as it stretches out from where he's holding it. A glance at Tommy, then he tilts his head back and holds the fry over it, tasting it.

Then he eats the rest of the fry. "That's very good," Adam says with something like wonder.

"You should try them with _ketchup_," Tommy grins, handing the box over to Adam. "Seriously, chow 'em down. They're awesome." He wants to add something about how eating fries isn't a sin unless you eat like, a _shitload_ of them (gluttony!), but the look on Adam's face is... pretty fantastic. "How're things going? He looks... easier, you know? Like... like a part of him that he doesn't even realize is there is accepting what's going to happen." Impulsively, Tommy runs his hand over Adam's hair. "Thanks for not being all like, Righteous and all over this. I can't influence the father much longer, though. Let's go get burgers to go with those fries. Seriously. Human food? _Incredible._ Especially McDonalds."

"I - " Once again, Adam doesn't let himself finish his thought. He nods instead. His hands clasp behind his back and he starts to walk with Tommy. "Nathan is doing well, I think," he says instead. "Thank you." The boy will suffer again; Adam knows this. They do what they can. "Are you well?"

"I feel like I've got a fucking target on the back of my head, honestly. I constantly feel like I'm being watched. I haven't been to my station in... I don't even know how long." Stations, where Those sent to interact with humans can take shelter. A home, an apartment. A place to exist. "Are you doing okay? Can... would it be completely out of the question to maybe take up a corner at your station?" He holds the door to McDonalds open for Adam. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, his wings are noticeably lighter, almost the colour of smoke. He's in trouble.

The color of his wings is what draws Adam's attention and he frowns. "I don't have a station," he says, though. "I ... go up. When Nathan sleeps. I'm sorry. I could ... ask. But ... " Tommy had already said that he didn't want to attempt to apologize. Almost instinctively, Adam's wings spread wide, as wide as they can go. "I will stay with you."

"_Put those away,_" Tommy hisses in the High Language, waving a hand at him. "_They hurt my eyes._" He doesn't want Adam to ask Anyone anything. At least not to curry a favor out of Someone Up There. God. No pun intended. Before answering Adam, Tommy orders two Big Mac meals to go, with Coke, taking care of it with a bill pulled out of a wallet with a skull and crossbones on it. Bag in hand full of fragrant deep-fried food, Tommy leads Adam out of the restaurant. "You'll stay with me. Seriously. You are going to voluntarily stay at a demon's station. Wow." There's nothing sarcastic in Tommy's tone, just admiration and more than a little bit of surprise, and as it turns out, Tommy's station is less than a five minute walk from the Harriday house. "I sit and watch him, sometimes."

"I know." Adam might not have been able to see him, but he knew. His wings are folded tight against his back almost contritely as he follows. The smell is not new, but the food is for him this time. It seems that this will be a night of new experiences and silently, he sends up words, a plea for understanding and forethought. "What you are doing now. It's good."

"Not for me it's not." Tommy lets them in and leads Adam up to an apartment that's dark, sparsely furnished except for a couple of guitars, an amp, a lot of CDs and a stereo. "Come out on the balcony, you'll see what I mean." He motions for Adam to put their food on the table and opens the patio door, letting in the beginning sounds of rain. "See, you're here. The place feels empty. It's not like that when I'm by myself. They're watching me, seeing what I'm doing. And..." He casts a look over his shoulder at Adam. "...I'm changing, I think. Because of this."

"If they're watching you, then they don't stop when I'm here." Adam's inclination is to stretch his wings again. A signal to others of his kind and a warning. He is not a warrior by trade, but he will not shy away from a fight if the cause is just. "Your wings." And Adam touches them.

They immediately flex, as if Adam's shocked him, and then they're pulled up tight behind his back again. "Yeah, my wings. And I feel different." With that, he goes out on the balcony where the overhang protects them from the rain. When Adam joins him, Tommy adds, "You're here... it makes Them harder to see. I mean, honestly, how many times have I told you to tone down the glare? And you're _way_ up right now, I guess 'cause you're here, right?" Nathan's house is easy to pick out, all of the lights darkened and Tommy gestures at it. "It's this. It's him." He looks up at Adam, at eyes that still seem so blue even when there's so little light to illuminate them. "He's never going to forgive me for leaving, is He."

"I ... don't know." Angels are not told the ways of the fallen. "You say you are changing as if that is something bad. As if ... " He looks out at the city. "I could, at this moment, summon my brethren. We could fight. We would fight. Good is good. What you are doing is Good, Tommy." But Adam keeps his wings tight to his back. "And I thank you."

"I'm just... really conflicted." Tommy looks over the edge of the balcony, at the parking lot fourteen floors below. Thirteen, actually, but the building is old enough that it doesn't really have a thirteenth floor. "When I left, He just let me go. It was my Choice and I made it. If I try and go back... it won't be that easy." For all the freedoms and little material luxuries that Tommy enjoys - like Big Macs, which are sitting on the table waiting for them - he knows that with his Kind, there is no forgiveness within the ranks. There's only punishment. "Why would you summon them? For me?" The sour little laugh that Tommy makes tells of his disbelief. He's just one of a Legion. "I'm trying to... not do what's _good_, because good people get their asses handed to them on a regular basis." Like the case they're on right now. "I'm trying to do what's _right._"

"In His eyes, they are the same." Adam looks up at the sky, then over to Tommy. "If you are doing Right, then there is no reason to feel conflict. It is not always clear, I know. But in this instance, it is."

When Tommy's hand comes down on the rail, a shot of lightning crosses the sky. "That's _not it._ I'm not conflicted because of what I'm doing. I'm conflicted that, because I _am_ doing this and helping you, that I'm writing my own Destiny. I'm coming to my own end. I don't want that." The electricity in the sky makes it feel like the hairs on the nape of Tommy's neck are standing up, and every feather standing straight on its quill. "I have _never_ been afraid. Do you know what that's like?" It's not about him, though, in truth. It's about Nathan Harriday, a kid who's going to die because... well, just because. And he and Adam just want to make sure that he doesn't hurt when it happens. That it's quick and as easy as it can be. "I forget what it's like to be Good, and it scares me." Because it always gave Tommy something to measure up against: though the rules of being an Angel aren't that different than being a Demon, but for the _feel_ of their actions. If Tommy remembers what it's like to be Good, it makes it easier for him to use his influence from Below.

Quietly, Adam lays his hand over Tommy's on the railing. "I will help you to remember," he says and as the rain comes down, they watch it fall.


	7. Chapter 7

It's late and the food containers on the table are mostly empty. Adam crouches looking at the CD cases one by one. "Which one of these is your favorite?"

"There's an album there called 'Grace' by Jeff Buckley. You'd probably like it." Tommy's sprawled out on the couch on his stomach, wings relaxed and lopsided, chin braced on a hand. "How'd you like the food? It's pretty good, huh? I'm a big fan of the sauce they put on it. And _pickles._" There are things he wants to do, say, things he wants to touch out of curiosity and a need to remember his place. But the moment Tommy rests a hand on the strong frame of Adam's right wing, the apartment goes dark and the sound of rain is replaced with the flap of leathery flight. "Warning," Tommy whispers, moving easily through the dark. And through it, he can still see Adam, dampened down to little more than a deep grey shadow against seamless, endless black. "You stay right fucking here. I'm going out to the balcony."

But Adam stands as well, shoulders broad. Angels do not know fear, but he knows to be alert. All he needs to do is spread his wings, say the word and the sky will be alight with others of his kind. Where Tommy had touched had greyed again, but turned back to pristine white after a moment. There are dark forces coming. God sees all, however. Adam watches, eyes bright, sharply blue.

Tommy's own are as dark as the air surrounding them, and he pushes the balcony door open to slip out, as neat and quiet as a shadow. While Adam can't decipher what's being said, he can distinctly hear two voices, one of them (many, many voices, all speaking at once) buzzing and inhuman, and Tommy's own, singular, mid-range and insistent. Tommy's apartment grows warm and warmer, as if what's circling the building is pulling the heat up from whence it came, broken by flashes of lightning that would illuminate shadows moving almost too fast to catch, ugly and misshapen. Those without terrestrial purpose and not needing a human form. This is not war, not yet; it's a threat, to both Tommy and Adam, for the Good to be rid of this case and to let Tommy _work._

Above the drone and buzz of the voices, Adam can hear others. Gentle questions, what he might be considering when he does this. How it fits with the Plan, with the case of Nathan Harriday. The answer, to him, is clear. The boy is more peaceful. Tommy has helped with that. Perhaps the Others need reminding of that. In the High Language, Adam says, "_It is as it should be_" and from above there are a series of lights in the sky that have nothing to do with shooting stars.

When Adam speaks, the whirring sound of wings explodes into a thunderclap before disappearing, and then, so quiet in comparison that it seems like silence, the sound of rain. They're alone again, one angel, one demon, caught on a plane of existence where neither of them fully belong. The lights in the sky make Tommy wince and squint, even as he's sliding the door across again, and he asks, "Did you call for help? Honestly? I don't _need_ Their help. I need-" _yours,_ is how he means to finish it, but the word falls before being spoken.

"I didn't call for help. I was explaining." Adam's wings fold back up between his shoulderblades. He goes to the doors to look out, smiling just a little bit. A moment, and he turns to Tommy again; if possible, he seems to be even more brightly illuminated. "What do you need?"

Now that They are gone, the darkness recedes from the apartment, leaving Adam looking _brilliantly_ white, and Tommy staggers back a step or two before he forces his eyes to adjust. The thought on the heels of that is that Adam's _beautiful_, and there's a sudden pang to be like him again, a sense of loss over the Choice he'd made. But it's been too long to go back. "I need to remember what Love is like," Tommy whispers instead, and turns away from Adam.

Adam can feel the pain of Tommy's words reverberate through him. His wings flutter again, but do not expand as he steps closer, one foot at a time, before he rests a hand on Tommy's shoulder. "I love you," he says, in the language that anyone, human or Other, can understand.

"You love because it's your nature to," Tommy answers, turning to look up at Adam. "I don't know if I can feel that anymore. But..." He shakes his head, a quick back and forth, dismissing his own problems and thoughts in favor of what's immediate. Nathan Harriday. "I feel like... I should just stay here and not interfere anymore, not at all. A kid shouldn't kill himself. But a kid also should live to be an adult." In Adam's eyes though, Tommy sees that his words are truth. Adam _does_ love him, even though Tommy had turned his back on what he'd once been, and to thank him, Tommy gets up on his toes and touches his lips to Adam's. Not out of temptation, but maybe... forgotten emotion.

For a moment, Adam doesn't even respond. The sensation of a mouth against his own is entirely foreign and he takes it in. (Between them, the dark lightens, the light darkens, finding a gray in the middle.) But when Tommy leans back, Adam simply blinks at him. "Everyone can feel love," he whispers. He doesn't argue Tommy's statement about Nathan; some things are, quite simply.

Yes, everyone can feel love, but it's one kind of love that Tommy wants to feel, and in kissing Adam, as simple and closed-mouth as it had been, he'd felt it, just for a flash as brief and bright as Adam himself. He looks up at him again, unable to look away despite how much Adam glows, and Tommy's expression is troubled when he kisses him again, a hand on his shoulder and the other on the side of Adam's neck. This isn't Lust or Greed, but neither is it Chastity or Charity. It's a touch of Faith and reassurance that Tommy can still believe. A month has changed him in ways he hasn't even been aware of.

Adam's hands cradle Tommy's face and it's his turn to pull away this time, his face showing perplexity. There is something he doesn't know. His lips feel cold and he touches them with one hand, other hand still on Tommy's shoulder. "We should be diligent," he whispers.

"_You're_ diligent," Tommy answers, one side of his mouth turning up in a smile. "I have to stand back. I'm gonna ask you one thing, though? When it happens, I want to be there. I want to be with him, too." In hopes that in being with Adam, Tommy might be spared what fate would come after for not only failing on this case, but letting it slip willfully through his fingers. "Stay here with me. Please." There's the couch if Adam needs to rest, or there's all the music that Tommy has, if Adam gets bored. There's even a bed in the other room, if Adam needs to stretch out. "Could you feel what I've felt? I... I tried to show you when I kissed you. I know you... that we... the last case we were on together, I tried to pull you down. I want you to know that I wasn't, this time." Tommy shivers in a rustle of feathers before pulling away from Adam entirely. No, the kisses hadn't been based in temptation, but _now_ he's tempted himself; a want for more. More of that light, that goodness, a sense of safety that cast light into places that have been dark for so long.

"I will stay with you." And Adam's fingers touch Tommy's face before falling away. "I believe you." Still, his lips are cold and still the angel doesn't know what to think of what occurred. The thought of Nathan though works to focus him. He doesn't need to sit, nor does he need to lie down. He stands all the night, looking out the glass doors.


	8. Chapter 8

On the day Nathan Harriday is to die, Adam stands on the roof of the school. It's to happen on the boy's way home. He will veer from his usual path and cross the street without looking into the path of an oncoming municipal bus. The driver, a John Penny, will let his guilt drive him back into the arms of the church he hasn't attended in six years, since the death of his wife, Editha, from bone cancer. And yet, Adam cannot feel peace. It is to happen. It will happen. Perhaps it's Tommy's influence, Adam doesn't know. But he is uneasy.

"Hi." Tommy appears next to Adam on the roof, pulling himself up out of shadow that barely holds him anymore. His wings are the colour of doves, a pale, soft grey, and he reaches a hand out to fit it into Adam's. "Are you ready?" In Tommy's series of events, as they'd been when he'd first opened the case, if the boy wasn't dead by this date, then it would be a purposeful movement into the path of the bus, rather than being unaware of what's about to happen to him. "Just think, after this, you won't have to worry about me anymore. Bet that's reassuring, huh?"

"You seem to think I resent your presence. That's not so." Adam squeezes Tommy's hand. "You've brought me comfort. I am ... distressed about what we must do today. I've been thinking of what you've said. About children living to see adulthood. So many do not. However, I ... I am distressed."

"Distressed." Tommy's chide comes out with a smile, though. "You say that He, in all of His infinite wisdom, has a plan for humans. Why stillbirth? Why miscarriage? Why kids with cancer, or who'll walk out in front of buses? I just... don't understand." Their kind, _Adam's_ kind, was never meant to, though. They'd be given a Task to carry out, and they would, unthinking and unquestioning. It was when these Tasks started to be questioned that The Bearer of Light fell, taking his Legion with him. "It'll be over soon. And then we can grab Big Macs and I can celebrate my last day as a demon. Because they're going to come for me." There's a pause when Nathan comes out of school, and Tommy's fingers tighten in Adam's. "There he is."

"He'll go left, instead of right," Adam notes and his voice takes on a quiet, flat quality. They watch Nathan walk through the crowds of children and turn left. His head is down, feet scuffing on the pavement. "He'll walk two blocks." He squeezes Tommy's hand and they stand now across the street, in the dirt beyond the pavement of the sidewalk. Nathan is walking toward them.

"He won't look up." With the hand that's not in Tommy's, Adam reaches out, his head to the side. "And he will find Peace."

The squeal of locked tires on the pavement seems preternaturally loud.

Tommy finds he can't even watch it happen, but the thump of impact and the sudden raise of voices makes him realize that his eyes are indeed closed. "Go and take him, then," he whispers, husky and dry, and lets go of Adam's hand. "Take him where he deserves to be." Away from pain and fear, away from this life that had betrayed him and back into arms that would love him and hold him. It makes Tommy feel less like the witness to an execution and more like he's following a path that's come 'round once again to lie at his feet. But to betray those Below means he's going to be in deep, deep shit, and Tommy can only hope that in helping Adam with Nathan, he can find some kind of Redemption for himself.

When Adam looks at Tommy, he's glowing even more brightly than he ever has. "I'll find you," he says, but then he's kneeling in front of Nathan, his wings extended and he's picking the boy up. He talks to Nathan, too quietly to understand and for a moment, they both look over as Nathan sees Tommy for the first time. Then they're gone.

Tommy stands there for a few moments longer, feeling the way the sun itches his skin, if it's the sun at all. Now, he's alone without Adam's Light to throw back the darkness that's more than likely coming for him. There's little that Tommy can do, so he puts his headphones in his ears and turns away from where Nathan had seen him, from the scene of the accident (though nothing is an accident, Tommy knows. It's all Destiny). He'll enjoy McDonalds one more time before his own Destiny is shown to him.

For Nathan, the welcome, as planned, had been warm. It soothed Adam, he would admit. His discomfort disappeared. When he walks into the McDonald's, Tommy can see his conscious effort to dim the Light, but it's not easy, not after such an intense showing of it. He sits across from Tommy, his hands splayed on the table and he says, "he was smiling."

"Good." Tommy's got a Big Mac in one half of the container and his fries are emptied into the other half, both sitting untouched. "He deserved better than what was given to him in life." For all that Tommy's arguments had been of the unjustness of the case, now that it's over, he can see that this _was_ the boy's escape. "You want some fries? I haven't gotten into 'em yet, but they're still hot. You never tried ketchup, did you." Adam is _bright_, and it only emphasizes how much Tommy's own darkness has diminished. "And you don't need to hold onto the glare, man. I got used to it." His tone is flat and distracted, preoccupied with Nathan, with Adam, with what's going to become of himself.

Even as he reaches over and takes a fry, Adam says, "I've made a decision." And even the words sound the slightest bit foreign coming from him. "It concerns you, if you'd like to talk about it." Then he chews the fry, slowly, bite by bite.

Tommy thinks about Adam's words through one bite of his burger, then another, and without realizing, he's halfway through it without asking for clarification. So, Tommy swallows and heels Big Mac sauce off the corner of his mouth with his hand. "What kind of decision? Are you going to purge me of the error of my ways? I do wanna talk about it, because I'm on a timer, here, and I don't know what's going to happen to me when I'm pulled back Below."

"That's my decision." For a moment, Adam looks out the windows of the restaurant as it starts to get dark. "I think I would like to stay here. With you. I ... do not wish to ... I think you meant that as a joke." When he turns back to Tommy, though, his face is somber. "I would like to stay here. With you."

Dusk is unveiled before them both, so subtle that it's hard to tell the colour of the sky from inside McDonalds. "What does your Boss think about that? That you're consorting with a demon at all? I might... I don't know. _Influence_ you." Though Tommy's powers of persuasion don't feel particularly strong right now, not when his wings are lightening in the same way a human would notice grey hairs. "You'll stay with me. I'm... I'm not everything that you're told I am. I think you know that, otherwise you wouldn't be here right now. You want a burger of your own? And you can tell me _why_ you want to be with me?"

The expression on Adam's face is one of puzzlement. "I don't need to eat," he says. "I ... I thought you would be ... I expected that you would be pleased by my decision. Are you not pleased, Tommy? This is the first I've spoken of this decision." Though, he knows, the Father knows. Perhaps this too is Adam's fate.

However, just as he finishes speaking, the dark outside the restaurant deepens much more quickly than is normal and Adam's wings snap wide without even a thought. "We have to be ready."

"I'm just confused by it," Tommy clarifies. "You're actually not this annoying Holy Roller that I'd thought you were." Until the last case they'd worked together, where he'd kissed Adam and there'd been this _moment._ Thoughts of the past are pushed aside when Adam stands, and Tommy's quick to follow, wings half-unfurled. He knows what this is, can see it in the halo of light around Adam's head, knowing he's got one of his own, burning like fire. But Goddamn (sorry, Father, Tommy knows Your last name isn't Damn, but still), he wants to finish his burger, so in the process of following Adam, Tommy grabs it and sucks it back in about three more bites. "I'm always ready."

Outside the restaurant, the wind whips up, tearing at the trees. There are no stars, and above the wind there is no noise, just a heavy quiet. Adam stands, stance wide, wings wider. "_We will not hurt those around us."_ If there is to be a battle, it will be taken elsewhere.

Adam should know better than to say something like that, though; those from Below don't care who goes with them if they're defeated. The terrestrial plane means nothing to them. Tommy's own wings spread with a muted _flump!_, prepared to fight against what, for so long, he had considered his family. Adam did this, Adam changed him, and he wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for him. For a moment, Tommy's wings flush as black as night, and he fights to keep from turning on the one creature who's come to _him_ to save him. Then those wings flex, and Tommy disappears into that darkness that winds itself around them both.

Adam is reminded that he's not a warrior; that task is someone else's, when he's struck from behind, and he falls forward before he can catch himself. Even the pain isn't what he knows Nathan suffered and that is what Adam reminds himself as he pushes to his feet again, wanting to take flight. But this time, his wing is caught, pulled hard and he staggers. In that moment, he realizes that his decision was heard and honored. No one from Above is coming for him now.

Dark forms hit the ground, only to disappear like so much smoke. There's no real death for creatures of their kind, only an ascension - or descent - into something better or worse than what they know at this moment. Adam hears his name once, then again, and Tommy comes down as quickly as he'd gone up, landing with both feet on the Creature that has Adam by a wing. The one rule that's above all else: if the wings are shorn, then they lose everything they ever were and are reduced to Mortal, to Human. "Come," he demands, taking Adam by the elbow, pulling him into the sky, wings moving strong and _hard_ to pull them both away from what Tommy's brought on them.

When he first moves, Adam's wing lurches as if damaged and it throws off the motion of his other wing so that he more drags Tommy down than helps in the escape. It gives the Others time to come for them both, hands bent into claws to rip and tear.

Adam is not afraid; that alone is a blessing. But when he's pulled again, his grip loosens from Tommy's and he starts to fall. To kick out, to fight is something he has to tell himself to do and he twists and turns, reaching for whoever - whatever - might be grabbing at him.

The voices of Angels are like trumpets, triumphant and loud, but the voices of Demons are discordant. When Tommy calls out to Adam, the sound is bright enough to cut through the darkness that follows them, and his wings flatten to his back so he can dive far and fast, faster than Adam's falling, faster than the way the Others would want to drag the angel down. "Got you," he grits, pulling prying, blackened fingers from Adam's wings, from his arms, his body, his ankles. It may not be Adam that they're after, but if they can tear an angel down in the process of bringing home one of their own wayward Fallen, then that's a huge victory. "Church," Tommy suggests, and then looks entirely stunned that he would even _think_ to go into a place of worship.

There's a small one, though, a converted portable building not far from where they are. Adam kicks and pushes before they are able to make their way there. The doors blow open which isn't as impressive as it sounds, and they shut tight when Adam and Tommy are inside. Then Adam can fall to his knees and he realizes that he does feel pain. Something like pain. "I think ... " He presses his forehead to the floor. "I think I'm ... " His left wing flaps spasmodically.

"Shh," Tommy soothes, dropping to his knees as well, running his hands over Adam's wing. "Hold _still._ It's broken." But not torn off, thank God for that (yeah, Tommy means You Up There, thanks for not letting Adam have his wing torn off) "Okay, hang on." He fumbles at his waist for his belt and pulls it off, and really, for being a celestial Being, Adam's wings shouldn't break at _all_, should they? But that's just a flicker of a thought as he straightens Adam's wing, pushing it up so it's folded protectively against his back. "Never been hurt before, huh? It kind of sucks." Tommy uses his belt to bind Adam's wing down to keep it from being damaged further, and then realizes that the belt's too small to go around Adam's chest. Being in this church makes his skin burn and his muscles ache, but at least they're safe. "Now what, Angel?"

"I've made my decision," Adam whispers, reaching out, hands crawling on the floor. "No one will come for me. I ... I don't know."

He doesn't notice the small child who appears from behind the altar, a young girl perhaps three or four years old, who peers at them from afar before coming closer, one step at a time, hugged up tight to the edges of the pews. "Is his wing broke?"

"Yeah, it is," Tommy starts, and then realizes what the little girl said. "Why are you here alone? What do you see?" Instinctively, he pulls his own wings up tight to his back before trying to find the right spot that Adam's wing could set properly at. "You shouldn't be here. It's not safe. Not where we are. Go find your mommy and daddy." Then Tommy turns back to Adam, petting his other wing in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. The time has been long since he's needed to care for anything.

"Daddy went to the hopsital to visit Mrs. Gracey who's sick. He told me to stay here." The girl comes closer, stopping a few feet from where the angel and dark angel are, crouching down on short legs. "Does it hurt? My daddy has asprin if you wanna."

Raising his head, Adam gives the girl a small smile. "Thank you, but I'm fine. You can see us?"

The girl nods.

Adam's broken wing spasms. "Can you hide?" The building around them rattles. "Is there a good hiding place? Tommy - "

There's another loud rattle.

"Tommy," Adam says again. "Help her."

Those from Below couldn't enter a place like this without suffering in great amounts, but that doesn't mean they couldn't tear the protective walls back like the peel on a banana (another food that Tommy's discovered he loves) and take them from there. But Tommy's torn: there's Adam, who's made some kind of decision to stay with Tommy, thus rendering him helpless and without aid if he needs it. Help Adam? Help the girl? "Come here," he says to her, crouching down so he can wrap his arms around her, then his wings, giving her the best protection he can against what he knows would be a torrent of death. "Adam," he says, hearing the rough rustle of Adam's broken wing against the floor of the church. "Holy Water. Protect yourself, too."

"Daddy blessed some of the water, but it's back in the back," the girl says just before the ceiling is ripped off the building. She screams, huddling close to Tommy's body and she doesn't see how Adam is yanked up into the sky and out of sight.

"_No!_" Tommy howls. It's not Adam they're after, it's _him_, and that Goddamn (yeah yeah, Tommy knows, not Damn, blah blah) angel-

For now, it seems as though those Below are content with what they've done, content with their Holy prize, and while the storm still shrieks, it's _only_ a storm, now. A temporary respite. "Hold onto me," he whispers to the little girl, and takes to the air to find Adam. He prays (_yes_, real praying, even though Tommy's not sure if Anyone is listening) that they didn't take him Below, to the Bearer of Light, and he holds the girl as tightly to him as he can. "Keep your eyes closed," he whispers to her. "Just keep your eyes closed and everything will be alright." He can _feel_ Adam, and there's a surge of gratitude; it means Adam's still on humanity's level, but it's a matter of finding him, now. _There_ he is, not quite as brilliantly white, but easy to pick out, and Tommy lands down next to him, setting the girl onto her feet on the sidewalk. "Oh no," Tommy whispers, dropping to his knees again. "Adam."

"He doesn't have his wings no more," the girl says, crouching next to him. She gently pats Adam's shoulder. "My daddy says that if you pray, God'll give you whatever you want, though. We should pray, cuz my daddy knows things."

They can see Adam work to push himself up from where he's lying on the grass, but he only gets to his hands and knees, his head down. "What's your name?" He asks the girl, still not looking up.

"Emmie," she tells him.

"Your daddy's right, Emmie," Adam whispers. "Most of the time. Just ... not right now."

"Adam," Tommy repeats, running a hand over the bloody marks where his wings had been. "Oh God, we have to... Oh my God, you're _human._" Because of Tommy. Only hours ago, Adam had been an Angel, leading a boy to a place where pain and sadness couldn't touch him anymore, and now, in the hours past dark, has lost _everything_ he ever was. "Emmie, I need you to go back to the church, okay?" To those without Sight, nothing would seem out of order: the roof would be in place, the pews undisturbed, restored to safety and faith. "You need to be there when your daddy comes back. I'll take you there." But what does he do about Adam? He can't just _leave_ him here. Kindness and care are unfamiliar.

"Go with him, Emmie," Adam whispers, falling back to his elbows. "Tommy, make sure she's safe." There is the memory of pain, but the sharpness is gone. Instead, he can feel the softness of the grass, a rock under his hand. His knees are damp from the rain-soaked ground. "Please."

Again, the little girl is gathered up in Tommy's arms, but it's to be taken back to where she'll be safer on her own than in the company of a rogue demon and an ex-angel. "I'm coming back for you," he promises Adam, and then takes to the sky again. At the church, he sets Emmie down carefully. "Where did you say your daddy's holy water was?" That it might burn him is a very real possibility, but it's the only thing he can think of that could heal Adam's wounds.

"He keeps it in the kitchen cuz he says its out 'a the way there," Emmie tells him. "How come the white one don't have his wings no more?" She looks around at the ceiling, at the pews, then back at the dark one. "How come your wings aren't the same color?"

"Because I'm different than Adam." Tommy keeps hold of the little girl's tiny hand, because worse than having a death like Nathan's, being responsible for a death of one so innocent, so sweet, who has the Sight, would be unthinkable. "I need some of that water, would you help me get it?" Why doesn't Adam have his wings anymore? Because Those who are like Tommy tore them from his back, but Tommy can't tell a little girl that. "He was hurt protecting both of us. He's very brave."

"Why are you different? God loves everybody, that's what Daddy says. Well 'cept some kinds 'a people. Some kinds 'a people are born bad. Daddy says that. Is he hurt bad? Where'd his wings go?" The girl walks back with Tommy past the altar, through a thin wooden door to a small hallway. The kitchen's on the end and she points to a Mason jar on the counter next to a coffee maker. "That's it there. Are you gonna give it to the white one? Will it make his wings come back?"

Tommy pulls his hand into his sleeve before picking up the jar, careful to not even let the glass touch his skin. Just in case. "Some people are born bad, that's right. And I'm going to tell you a secret, only because you can see our wings. Adam's an angel, and it's my turn to take care of him. I was an angel once, too, but I did some bad things." Things that don't need to be explained to Emmie. "And I hope... I hope if I help him, then it'll make me good again, and God will love me." The mason jar is tucked carefully into Tommy's hoodie pocket, and he crouches down to look Emmie in the eyes. "I have to go now. You stay right here. You'll be safe when I'm gone. I don't know if it'll bring his wings back, but I hope it'll help him not hurt anymore."

"If you pray, God'll love you. God loves everybody but the bad people." Emmie pats Tommy's shoulder as she starts to sing, "Jesus loves me this I know... for the Bible tells me so... You should sing with me." She pats him again. "Jesus loves me, this I know ...."

"I don't sing very well," he starts, but he does know the words, and picks them up with her in little more than a whisper. "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so... little ones to Him belong, for we are weak but He is strong..." _Have no fear, for I am here._ Tommy's been afraid since the case with Nathan Harriday had gotten complicated with Adam being involved, and he touches a kiss to her forehead. "I'll see you again, Emmie. And you can sing and I'll play guitar, okay?" The thought of Adam on his hands and knees in the rain is too much to bear. "I have to go and help A- I have to go and help my friend." He runs his palm over her hair before turning away to go back through the church to the damp night outside. It takes only a moment or two to get back to Adam, and Tommy sits down on the ground next to him. "I have Holy Water. It's... it's the only thing I could think of that could help."

Adam utters a breathy low chuckle. "I ... don't think I ... I'm not sure that will make much difference now." He's succeeded in pushing himself back to his where he sits on his haunches, still balancing his weight on his hands. "I can feel things, though. I ... can feel things." He holds one hand up, palm out, for Tommy to see. A cut from an errant stone. "I can feel this."

Tommy doesn't know what to say to that, not having felt those same things before. Pain in measures, yes, but he's never perceived things the same way a human does. There's only one way he could feel that way, and Adam's experiencing it right now. "You can't just be _here._ We need to go somewhere. I can take you somewhere." The mason jar is pulled out and held in bare palms, and to Tommy, the glass feels warm. "I'm going to try, just in case. It... it might help heal it, I don't know. It's been so long that I've had water like this that I forget how to use it." Once the cap is spun off, he tips the jar to pour the water over the two open wounds on Adam's back. "Emmie said to pray."

"Emmie is a wise little - " Adam's words cut to a hiss of breath pulled in between his teeth as water and blood wash down his back. "A wise little girl. I don't think I should. Do you?" Finally, he raises his eyes to look over at Tommy. "Did it help?"

"I prayed," Tommy whispers, and bows his head. "I prayed that they wouldn't take you Below. I prayed that you would be alright." He touches Adam's skin, trying to wipe away errant feathers and blood, feeling the way the Holy Water makes his skin tingle. "Why would you give up everything you've known, just because you're human? That doesn't mean that-" Tommy's wings flex in sympathy when he feels Adam's shoulderblades, where his own wings were. "I'm praying right now." It comes out broken and low as the skin starts to pull together, slowly. "It's working. but your wings aren't coming back."

"Ah." Adam's chin falls to his chest again as he feels the tightness. "I didn't expect they would." But he reaches back, finding by groping, Tommy's hand and he squeezes it. That, he finds, helps. "I'll pray with you, then." By habit, he reaches for the High language, but it is gone; his tongue can't form the words and at that, he mourns.

But still, Adam prays. He prays for Tommy whose soul is Good, despite it all. He prays for Emmie to be safe, saying that he knows he has no right to ask for anything. But Tommy's hand is warm.

A crackling train of chain-lightning crosses the sky and Adam waits for the boom of thunder that follows. When it comes, it feels as if it rattles his bones. There is much, he realizes in that moment, to be thankful for.

Tommy tips his face up to the sky, eyes closed, lashes dark and clumped on his cheeks from the rain, from his grief at being responsible for the Fall of Adam. That Adam had his wings stripped and Tommy still has his own. If Adam was willing to take that sacrifice for him, then Tommy will show him that he's worthy of it. He touches his mouth to the palm of Adam's hand before standing, giving himself up to Those Above to do what they want with.

The answer he gets is nothing short of ultimate surprise. It _looks_ like being struck by that lightning, white, blinding light, the sharp smell of rain and ozone, but when Tommy's vision clears, he realizes that something's... very different. The weight on his back is the first clue. It's gone. And he can feel the rain on his skin, cold and sharp; he sees Adam differently, not as an Other looking at a human, but _different._ Beautiful. He begins to ask why, but, like Adam, his tongue won't form the words of the Divine Language. This is the answer he's been given. He's human, too.

"Oh."

It's all Adam can think to say when he looks up. With a push from his knees to the side, he's sitting on the ground now, wet and dirty and still aching, but he looks up at Tommy who looks different but somewhat the same. "Did it hurt?"

"What just happened to me?" Tommy asks, craning his head around to try and look at his back. "This isn't what I-" It isn't what Tommy asked for, but he didn't really ask for _anything_, other than forgiveness. Suddenly, all his joints feel loose and wobbly, and he sits down on the sidewalk with a disbelieving laugh. "Lemme see your hand again. No... no. I don't think it hurt. I didn't- not the way you- Your wings were taken by force. Mine were just... Gimme your hand." Why can't he find the right words to say? Why does he feel like his heart's beating like a jackhammer? Why is the rain so cold?

So, Adam extends his hand, palm up, toward Tommy. "It didn't hurt ... " He didn't even see it happen, it happened so quickly. Now here they both are. Human. In the cold rain with no mission or purpose. Without anything. But, he reminds himself, each other.

Tommy takes Adam's hand and inspects the cut on the palm from the rock. It's not bleeding anymore, but it's _there_, showing Adam's humanity as much as Tommy's own, found in his curiosity. "We need to be somewhere dry. I'm cold. And I bet you are, too." Is this an effort to keep them both safe from the forces Below? Have them be neither Angel or Demon, but humans, in God's own image? "My station's too far from here... Emmie's still at the church..." Taking a deep breath that tastes different than any other breath Tommy's pulled, he finds the strength to get both himself and Adam upright. "You can walk, right? You can lean on me."

"I can walk, I think." But Adam has no shoes. He hadn't had a need for them, before and his clothes now, are tattered, the white filthy and dirty.

When he gets to his feet, he sways a little, arms out to the side for balance until the dizziness subsides, but then Adam nods, looking around. "I can walk. Perhaps Emmie's father will be at the church and he can help us."

Tommy gets under one of Adam's arms, slipping one of his own arms around Adam's waist. They probably look _terrible_, like those derelicts that ask people for change in low, hoarse voices and always seem to smell vaguely of cheap booze. "I hope so," he answers. "I don't know what else to do. I'm _cold_, are you cold? And my stomach hurts. My mouth is dry." Things Tommy had never realized before: he's hungry, he's thirsty. Adam must feel the same things. "It's not far to the church." Arm in arm, he leads Adam toward the building.

Almost as if by cue, Adam's teeth start to chatter and his skin feels tight from where it draws up because of the cold. He's never had to eat before nor drink, doing what he did out of courtesy or curiosity. But now, yes, he can feel a hollowness in his stomach that is unpleasant. His hair, now, he knows, a stark black, hands over his eyes and the ground under his feet feels rough.

So, it's slow going, even though, yes, they very much look like vagrants. And the doors to the church, when they reach them are locked; they no longer open for Adam at his will. So they knock. And knock for a long time before a man, middle-aged, tall and thin, peers out. "Can I help you?"

"We need," Adam says, scanning his memories for the right words. "Shelter."

The man, whom they assume is Emmie's father, looks at them both for a long time, then pushes the door wide. "C'mon in, then. Out of the cold. Heck of a storm that blew in, all of a sudden."

"Is Emmie still here?" Tommy asks abruptly. Their story would be easier to explain if the pastor's daughter is there. She can tell about the wings, about the roof being torn off, about Adam being pulled into the sky. "She knows my friend and I... we were here while you were visiting..." The name slips Tommy's mind, just for a second. "Mrs. Gracey. Because she's sick." A pew has never looked so good, and Tommy slides both himself and Adam into one so they can _sit._ "The storm..." Tommy looks at Adam for a moment, then up at the pastor. "Unholy forces. Look at his back. We... we were angels. He - Adam - was an angel. I tried to keep him from being taken."

"Uh, all right," the minister answers slowly, brow furrowed behind his glasses. "Unholy forces, you say. All right .... "

"You don't believe us," Adam realizes. He reaches forward, holding to the pew in front of them to pull himself forward. "I know you doubt. Emmie ... she can see things. Ask her."

"My daughter's four years old and you - "

"We would never hurt her," Adam says, shaking his head (it's starting to ache). "Tommy protected her. Please ask her. I'm sorry we have to impose, but I'm not feeling very well."

"You lost your wings, too?" Emmie appears at her father's hip, arm around his thigh, looking at Tommy. "How you lose 'em?"

"Emmie, I don't know - "

"Daddy, they had wings. They don't now. I wanna know why." She looks up at her father, then back at Tommy. "Did they fall off?"

Tommy's relief at having the little girl vouch for them is plainly visible on his face, and he slides out of the pew to kneel on the floor so he's on her level. "When I was helping Adam, there was a big flash of light, like lightning, but it didn't hurt me, and then I was just like him. I'm happy to see you and I'm glad you're alright. You didn't hear anything after I brought you back here, did you? No voices? Nothing coming to hurt you?" Then he turns his eyes up to the minister, and just as he goes to say something else, his stomach growls, loud. "We need to help my friend. I'm... I'm Tommy and this is Adam. Your daughter helped both of us, and she has the Holy Sight. She saw what others can't."

"We're supposed to help people, daddy. Me and him, we sang Jesus Loves You and his wings were black but they're gone now," Emmie says. She comes around from her daddy's side and evades his reach to touch Tommy's shoulder and look at his back. "Your shirt's not all torn like his is."

"Emmie!" Clearly, the pastor is torn. "I ... I have to say, I'm ... I've never - "

"If we could just ..." Adam closes his eyes and opens them again. "If we could get something to eat and if you have some clothes. We just need a place to rest for a bit. Then we won't bother you. You ... you are known, Marcus Haley. God knows what of you do. Please." (Later, Adam would admit to Tommy that that was the first lie he ever told, gleaning the pastor's name from the sign by the doors.)

"Well ... "

"Daddy ... "

"Emmie!" Haley runs a hand over his head. "We got some bread and grape juice, of course, and some cookies. And there's some clothes in the donation bin from the drive we did a while back... "

"I just need something dry to change into," Tommy starts, then looks up at Adam. "He needs new clothes entirely. Sir, there's a _war_ going on that... that the human eye can't see. Not normally. Some people are gifted with Sight, like your daughter. Demons were... they were after me for disobeying orders I'd been given. It had been about the death of a boy, and I'd helped Adam get him where he needed to be." Tommy's stomach growls again, and he presses a hand to it to try and make it _shut up._ "We ran. Flew. Whatever. And Adam had one of his wings broken by one of Them. We ended up here and while we were taking shelter, Emmie was here, too. I protected her while Adam protected both of us, and he had his wings ripped off as the result. If you know... when an angel loses its wings, it becomes human. The bell thing from It's A Wonderful Life? Lie. Angels have always had wings." Are his words even making sense? It feels like Tommy can't hold his concentration together. "I gave myself up for Judgement... and this is what I got in return. It's the truth, sir."

"He's sleeping." Emmie walks into the pew where Adam is leaned forward, head on his arm. "It's sad losing your wings. I bet it hurts lots worse than skinnin' your knee." She gently pats Adam's shoulder and he doesn't move.

"We better let him lie down, then. Right there for now. We don't have anyplace else," Haley says, even though it's clear he's still unsure. "And I'll get you boys some hot tea and some cookies. Might even have some peanut butter for sandwiches. Is he not wearin' shoes?"

"He never needed to," Tommy says, edging closer to Adam to make sure he _is_ sleeping. Even as a demon, Tommy enjoyed sleeping, it was a rare thing that let him dream, but it was never a necessity. "I don't remember it hurting, Emmie. It was just a flash of light and then they were gone. But I bet it hurt Adam. You saw him when we found him." He gets to his feet, unzipping his hoodie to peel it off, showing a soaked, skinny black t-shirt underneath, reams of goosebumps, and his tattoos. "No shoes. Never needed them. Why would an angel need shoes?" There's a weak smile, but it's genuine. "I'd like some cookies. And I need to get him into something dry, too."

Rummaging around in the the clothes that had been left as part of the charity drive, Tommy finds articles that aren't bad, not at all, and while the pastor makes tea, he changes, then slides into the pew next to Adam. "Wake up," he prods, gently. "I've got something for you to wear. And socks. I don't know what kind of shoes you want."

For a moment, Adam doesn't stir, but another nudging prompts him to slowly blink open his eyes, though he doesn't raise his head. "I ... I am very tired."

Emmie shows up at the end of the pew. "These cookies are my favorite," she tells them, holding out a bag of frosted windmill cookies. "I"m not supposed to have any, but I'll have one with you and you won't tell, right?"

"C'mere," Tommy invites, moving over in the pew a little so Emmie can fit in with them. "Do you want to sit between us? You can keep Adam company, too. He's not feeling very well." _Tired_ is a concept that Tommy hasn't figured out yet, so he takes a cookie and breaks it in half. "You have half and I'll have half, and Adam can have a whole one." Emmie is the perfect example of why Tommy had began to turn his back on the Sons of Darkness: she's innocent, sweet, giving and _good,_ and in that realization comes the thought that that's what Adam is, as well. "Put on something dry," he encourages Adam. "Then you can rest again. And have cookies."

There is a sweatshirt there, washed to where it's soft against his hand. Adam slowly pulls off his white shirt, letting it fall in a wet heap on the floor. When he stretches to put the sweatshirt on, Tommy can see the bruises that are starting to form on his ribs and shoulders. There are pants too, and he holds them; jeans, he knows, but the idea of putting them on is a daunting one. With a deep breath, he pulls himself to stand and starts to work down his old pants.

"He's got no undies on," Emmie observes.

"Adam!" Tommy hisses, covering Emmie's eyes. For a second, he doesn't even know _why_ he's shielding her, because there's never been any reason to be modest. The body is what it is, right? He realizes it's human nature to keep children from seeing what may not be appropriate for them. "Turn your back, Angel." But Adam's not an angel anymore, nor is Tommy a demon. The bruises that he can see, though, are shaped like gripping fingers, like hooves, and where Adam's wings had been is a deep, sickly violet. "Do you need help with your pants?" Tommy offers, still keeping Emmie's eyes covered.

"No, I think I can do it." But Adam isn't used to changing clothes and he nearly falls, bruising his knee on the edge of the pew before he finally falls to sitting again. The pants are loose around his waist and rough against his skin, but he leans his head back.

"Can I have the rest of my cookie now? Never been anybody naked in the church before I bet. There was a lady who came once," Emmie tells them, placid behind Tommy's hand. "She thought she had demons on her skin though."

"Emmie," Pastor Haley says as he comes up with mugs of tea. "She does like her stories," he explains, watching both the men. "You find what you need, now?"

Chances are, Tommy thinks, the woman _did_ have demons on her skin. Once Adam's dressed, he drops his hands to let Emmie eat the rest of her cookie. "Thank you," he says to Haley, taking the cup. He'd prefer coffee, but that's a pretty selfish thing to ask for, when this man and his daughter are letting them stay out of charity. "Adam, have some tea." The mug's passed to Adam, and Tommy hisses because the ceramic is _hot._ "Yes, sir, we did. Thank you. Do you mind if we sleep here? We... we don't have anywhere else to go, my s- my home's too far away and I don't know how to get us there."

"Just for tonight, boys. Emmie, c'mon, hun. We gotta get you home for supper, or your mama's gonna be a little upset." The pastor's smile is still a little tentative and he watches Adam and Tommy closely. "You just rest here and I won't be long at all."

"I want to stay here with them," Emmie pouts.

"You can't, now c'mon." Pastor Haley holds out his hand. "Let's go now."

Turning to Adam and Tommy, the little girl says, "I gotta go to school tomorrow, but I'll come by after school and see you, okay?"

"Thank you, Emmie," Adam tells her, his eyes still closed, tea warming his hands. "You have been very kind."

"Thanks, Emmie. And thank you for letting us stay here, sir." Tommy watches the minister and his daughter leave and takes a careful sip of his tea. Holy _God_ (whoops, sorry Up There, honest!), it's hot! Has tea always been this hot? Has coffee? Tommy sets the cup down on the seat next to him and shuffles over to put an arm over Adam's shoulders. "I'm sorry. This isn't exactly how I pictured things turning out."

"I don't know what I expected to happen." But Adam smiled just a little bit, opening his eyes to look at Tommy. "We have much to learn, it seems. We have to learn to be human. I don't think it's an easy task."

"They should try being like _us_," Tommy grumbles, sipping at his tea. It's bitter, without sugar, and just a little bit cloudy with milk. Milk doesn't help. "What does being tired feel like? How am I supposed to know if I'm tired?" He slouches down in the pew, letting his head rest back against the wood. "I don't think I'm tired. I think I'm hungry, though. The cookie that Emmie gave me was good, how'd you like yours? Food tastes different now. I want to try McDonalds again, I bet a Big Mac is just..." It's a good thing his cup's resting on the pew beside him, because Tommy dozes off. Maybe that's what tired feels like.


	9. Chapter 9

Both Adam and Tommy are nudged awake a few hours later by a billy club. "Gentlemen? We need to go." The police offer stands quietly, Pastor Haley standing a few feet back, looking abashed.

"I'm sorry," Adam says, blinking awake, his body feeling heavy and unwieldy. "What did we do wrong?"

"We just need to get you some place better is all. Come on now. On your feet."

Tommy's longer to wake up, a frown crossing his face before he can peel his eyes open. "What's going on? Some place better? Like, where? Can you... I've got a s-" He has to stop saying _station_! It's not a station, it's an apartment, and he's not even sure if it'll be there when the officer takes them there. Because that's where they're going, right? "I've got an apartment that's near Langdon Street Elementary. You could take us there?" He gets to his feet, feeling rusty and sore for having slept sitting up, and he's sure Adam's feeling pretty shitty, too. Having had his wings ripped off and all, and _then_ having to figure out what to do about being human. "Why do you look so guilty, Mr. Haley?" Where he'd been polite talking to the officer, suspicion touches Tommy's voice when his attention shifts.

"You boys need to go somewhere safe," is all the minister says and he backs away more as the officer urges Adam and Tommy to their feet.

"Emmie won't be very happy with you," Adam tells him. He gets to his feet, wincing, slow to move. "Where are you taking us?"

"Come on. Let's get you out of the church," the officer says. He's tall, broad, round and balding, Adam notes. His badge says "Bell." "Don't cause trouble, now."

"Aren't we safe here?" Tommy asks, still feeling groggy, and he runs a hand through his hair to push it back from his face. "A church is the safest place someone could be. Like, we don't know if we're still going to be targeted from Below when we're like this, you know? I can give you directions to get to my apartment." He doesn't know what else to says, what would make the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach go away. The minister had called the police on them, and they haven't even done anything wrong. They'd just been _sleeping._

"... targeted from below," the officer echoes before he looks over at Pastor Haley. "All right. We'll go by your _apartment_," he tells them. "Don't you have shoes?"

Adam looks down at his feet and back to the police officer, saying simply, "no."

"Right. Okay. Let's go."

And with that, Adam and Tommy are led to the police cruiser. As Adam looks back, he can see Haley's face for a moment before the door shuts and, he supposes, locks. He and Tommy sit in the back. Adam sits with his hands laced in his lap, feeling something negative in his stomach for the first time. It takes a moment but he realizes he's afraid. He realizes that he doesn't like it, so instead, he takes one of Tommy's hands in his.

"Where did you say you lived again?" Officer Bell asks as he pulls away from the church.

"Near Langdon Street Elementary," Tommy repeats, lacing his fingers into Adam's. "I... I don't know what the address is, but I can give you directions." That he can't remember the street and number of the building he'd been placed in makes Tommy's heart beat faster, makes his mouth dry and his skin needley and sensitive. "Do you know where that school is? The high-rise that's about a block and a half away? That's where I - _we_ \- live."

"You don't know the address of your own apartment." The officer looks at them through the rear-view mirror. "And I'm supposed to take you there? You gotta give me something to work with. Something concrete here."

"You'll see when we get there. You can come up with me." Tommy shoots a panicked look at Adam. How can he make this cop believe him? "There are two guitars in there, and a lot of CD's. I'm on the 14th floor and you can see the school from my balcony. Right, Adam?" He squeezes Adam's hand, trying to reassure himself when things feel like they're slipping out of his control. Isn't this what humans do, though? They have places with _things_ that belong to them, sometimes with a partner to live with. Aren't officers supposed to help?

That last thought only serves as a painful reminder of what Tommy had been before Nathan Harriday, how he'd thought he was helping, but was really only causing harm. "You can come up and see all of it, officer. My name's Tommy-" Tommy, what? Humans have two names, a first name and a family name, but Others don't. And he can't think fast enough to come up with a false name.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." The officer's broad shoulders heave in a sigh and he doesn't go toward the elementary school, but instead heads toward the county hospital. Tommy and Adam are escorted up to the intake desk and then officer Bell says, as means of parting, "you don't seem like trouble. Keep it that way."

The waiting room of the emergency room is not very busy, but it's loud. Adam gives in to the urge to cover his ears at first, with the random screams he hears, the crying babies, and the shouting of people who are waiting to be taken care of. So much suffering, suffering he sees and hears in other ways. The sensation he labeled as fear doesn't fade, instead increases as he's held by one large man in loose blue clothing, not unlike Adam's had been before, and Tommy is held by another. "Wait, I - I don't understand."

"The minister called from the church saying that you two were being brought in by an officer. Just relax, you're being taken somewhere that you can be safe." The nurse that has Adam's arm - Doug - is firm but quiet: there's no sense in alarming a peaceful patient. The psychiatrists haven't seen either of these two yet, but the minister had given them a little bit of backstory. Showed up at the church, soaked, clothes torn, claiming they'd been in a battle with demons. _Demons._ And that the one with the black hair had been an angel. Riiight. "I'm Doug. I'm your friend. I'm just looking after you."

"I don't understand why we're here," Adam says and he's pulled toward a set of doors that swing open as they get close. "We were sleeping. I don't - "

"Don't worry about it. It'll be all right. Tomorrow morning, you guys'll meet with Dr. Lane and she'll explain everything. So just relax. You got a bed for the night. A nice change from being on the streets, huh? Might even have a pair of socks for you, buddy," Ryan, the other orderly tells Adam. Just Adam. No last name. Right.

"We weren't - " Adam can add _confusion_ to his fear and he wrenches around to look at Tommy before he pushed into a room and the door is shut with a metallic clang. He's alone.


	10. Chapter 10

`**Name:** Adam (no surname known)`

`**Identification of Patient:** Male, appears to be in his late 20's`

`**Chief Complaint:** Currently unknown`

`**History of Present Illness:** Patient was brought to Poughkeepsie County under recommendation of admitting officer. Subject claims to have been an angel sent to Earth to take souls to heaven when they die. Subject has no identification, no last name that he can recall, no fixed address. Admitting officer believes that the subject, along with the other male he was admitted with, are vagrants. Possible monomania regarding being an angel, exhibiting signs of schizotypal behaviour as well as delusions. Subject is non-violent, confused, obviously frightened with the idea of being admitted into psychiatric care.`

`**Current Medications:** None, urinanalysis and blood tests show as clean.`

`**Plan:** Subject will take part in verbal therapy, with oral dosage of Zyprexa 20mg, dose split between breakfast and before bed.`

~+~

Instead of Adam being brought to Dr. Lane, she comes to him the afternoon after the barrage of questions that came with the initial interview. "Hi Adam," she starts, friendly and quiet. "Do you mind if I sit down with you? I thought we could talk."

Drawing his knees up to his chest as he sits against the wall on the small cot, Adam watches her. It's been a long night and an even longer morning, a cacophony of noises and experiences that he can't keep up with. But he says, "I don't mind." His hair still hangs in his face and there are dark circles under his eyes; he didn't sleep.

"Once we're done, I'll get one of the nurses to take you to the shower so you can clean up. And then I'm going to give you something that'll let you rest. You remember me from this morning, right?" Dr. Lane pulls a chair over to the side of Adam's bed, giving him a sense of camaraderie that might allow him to open up. "I know it wasn't very easy, but I'm glad you told me everything you could. I'd like to know more about you, though. Where you came from, what brought you here... how long you've been here." She's got a recorder in her front pocket, turned on to catch the sound of Adam's voice. The transcription in Adam's file reads like this:

`Adam: I have always been here. I am - was - here to watch over. That was my mission. But you don't believe me. No one believes us. Where's Tommy? I'd like to see him. Is he all right?`

`Dr. Lane: Your friend is fine. I'll be talking to him a little bit later. How long is 'always'? Do you know how old you are? You say you were an angel... who sent you here?`

`Adam: [pause] God the Father sent me here. I have been here ... a very long time. Time is measured differently - was measured differently. Why are you asking me questions if you don't believe me?`

`Dr. Lane: I'm asking you questions to get to know you. So you know you can trust me. You're a religious man? Were your parents religious as well? I'd like to know about them, too, and how you met your friend Tommy. Do you want to talk about that with me?`

`Adam: The Heavenly Father is ... he was. [subject shows signs of distress] I met Tommy what would be ... one hundred years ago, roughly, in human years. I want to see him. I ... I would like to see him. Soon, please. You seem like a good person, but I'd like to see Tommy now. Neither of us was supposed to be here, like this. The battle was somewhat unexpected. The fierceness of it.`

`Dr. Lane: Adam, I need you to relax. Nobody is going to hurt you here, you or your friend Tommy. What sort of battle are you talking about? Were you hurt? Was your friend? Were you trying to protect each other?`

`[note: subject has problems perceiving time, is avoidant when asked about his parents. Became distressed when pressed about his history]`

`Adam: My wings were taken and so were Tommy's. He was protecting me. I ... I would like to see him. He can explain better than I can. The Others were unhappy with what we'd done. Please. Please! I'm ... frightened and I'm very tired and don't understand.`

`Dr. Lane: Tell me what you mean by taken? Do you think you were being punished for something... that these 'Others' thought you'd done? I can't let you see him until after I've talked to him, but I'm going to give you something that'll help you sleep, and when you wake up, you shouldn't feel as frightened. We're here to look after you, Adam. I promise you that.`

`Adam: Promises are very difficult to keep, Dr. Lane. You should think before you make them.`


	11. Chapter 11

`**Name:** Tommy (no surname known)`

`**Identification of Patient:** Male, age difficult to discern; appears to be in his 20's`

`**Chief Complaint:** Currently unknown`

`**History of Present Illness:** Patient was brought to Poughkeepsie County under recommendation of admitting officer. Subject claims to have been a being that worked between Heaven and Hell. Subject has no identification, no last name that he can recall, no fixed address, but can describe an apartment he is said to have belongings in. Admitting officer believes that the subject, along with the other male he was admitted with, are vagrants. Possible monomania regarding being an angel/demon, exhibiting signs of schizotypal behaviour as well as delusions. Subject is non-violent, confused, frightened and sullen with the idea of being admitted into psychiatric care. May be an interesting case of _folie á deux_ with admitting patient 'Adam'. Unable to determine primary in this case.`

`**Current Medications:** None, urinanalysis and blood tests show as clean.`

`**Plan:** Subject will take part in verbal therapy, with oral dosage of Zyprexa 20mg, dose split between breakfast and before bed.`

 

~+~

`Dr. Lane: Hi, Tommy. Do you remember me? I have a few questions for you.`

`Tommy: Yeah, you're Dr. Lane. You think I'm crazy. I'm not.`

`Dr. Lane: I never said you were crazy. I'm a little confused and that's why I want to ask you questions. Let's start with the basics again, if you don't mind. You can trust me, I pr - you can trust me. How about a last name and a date of birth?`

`Tommy: You don't need to say it. I can see it on your face. I might not know a lot of things, but I'm not stupid. I don't _have_ a last name. We're not given them. I wasn't born, either. I just... I _am._ I exist. The bed's comfortable, thanks for letting us sleep here. Me and Adam. Is he okay?`

`Dr. Lane: He's fine. He's worried about you. He said something, actually. He said that you could explain better than he could about a ... battle? About losing your wings? Why don't you tell me about that?`

`Tommy: It's my fault that he lost his wings. There was this boy... Nathan something. I can't believe how fast I'm forgetting things... It _scares_ me. Just the little details. None of the big things. Adam and I weren't friends for a long time. We were enemies. He was an angel and I... wasn't. I came from Below and my purpose was to convince humans to... to do bad things so their souls would belong Below, too. [Sigh] Nothing about this boy was... I thought at first that I was doing the right thing, but I wasn't. Adam showed me that. And when I _did_ do the right thing, I was in trouble, and the Sons of Darkness came to get me, I guess. And they got Adam instead, and tore his wings off. When that happens to something like... like what we were, it means being turned into a human. You've seen Constantine, right? At the end, with Gabriel? That's what happens. So when I found Adam and saw what'd happened to him, I gave myself up. And had my own wings taken. [subject wrings hands together, cracking knuckles, exhibiting signs of guilt] Adam was my enemy, and now... he was right. He said that Good is the right way, and he was right. I'd like to see him, please. Just for a little bit.`

`Dr. Lane: I think that can be arranged in a little while. When did all this you're describing take place? It sounds like it was a pretty hectic time.`

`Tommy: The case itself is over a year old. I think- [subject appears confused for a moment] I think it all happened yesterday. The- Nathan. Being hit by a bus? And then I had McDonalds. I think it was yesterday.`

`Dr. Lane: You saw someone hit by a bus then had McDonald's?`

`[note: subject distressed and confused, clearly conflating delusions]`


	12. Chapter 12

Ryan takes Adam down the hall from the cell he's in, watches him as he showers, takes the soap from him when he's done, gives him a pair of scrubs and leaves him in a bigger room with four cots in it. Adam sits on the one against the far wall. Once again, he draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, his chin to his chest. He feels _strange_. He thinks it's the medicine they gave him, the small pink pill. But he looks up when the door opens, his eyes wider when he sees who it is. "Tommy." It feels like he's moving through water, but he gets to where Tommy is and puts his arms around him.

"Hi." Tommy barely has Adam's arms around him before he's talking against the angel's shoulder, eyes closed. "They don't believe me. They think that I'm lying, and for once in this life, I'm _not_ lying. Are you okay? Do we get to share a room? She thought it was weird that I went and got something to eat after you took Nathan. Is that weird? Is... it doesn't even feel real." He's in scrubs as well, and the cuffs of the pants drag on the floor, too long for Tommy. But the shirt's roomy and pretty comfortable, even though it's not black. "Can we sit down? Can I sit with you?" He'd had the same treatment of shower and scrubs and pink pill, and he feels a little bit fuzzy.

Arm around his shoulders, Adam leads Tommy back to the bed in the corner. If they sit there, they can see anything that will come in. He props the pillow up and sits and it just feels like the right thing to pull Tommy closer to his side. It's definitely warmer that way, though he ends up pulling up the blanket around their knees. "They don't believe me, either. I don't like it here. It feels ... it doesn't feel right here. Can you feel it? The doors are all locked, the metal over the windows. I don't like it here."

Tommy rests his head on Adam's shoulder, trying to sort out his thoughts. "They don't know, because they can't See. I don't even know if I still can, you know? It's funny... I never thought I'd be _anywhere_ with you. Let alone human and in a hospital. We're not sick. We aren't. So I don't know why we're locked in." He talks while watching the door for Doug or Ryan, or worse than that, Dr. Lane, who might tell them that they're just visiting, and they'll have to go back to their rooms again. "I wonder if we could get out."

"I don't know. I don't want to stay here. I think we have to tell that woman something to get out, but I don't know what it is. It's ... it seems like it's a test." Adam finds comfort in feeling Tommy next to him, he realizes. There is comfort in this, in touch. In community. "If we got out, where would we go?" It's clear they lack basic necessities: a last name. Identification. Money.

That's the question. They're human and they have _nothing._ Just each other's company, and that's maybe a start. That they're not _alone._ "We could make up a last name? I don't even know how to get into my station to get the things that are in there that are _mine._ If I could... then we could stay there." He looks up at Adam, brows drawn together. "Would you stay with me? I see people who play music on the sidewalks and they get money from people who walk by. Can you still sing? Do you still sing?" Maybe that's one Gift that hasn't been taken away from them. Maybe that could be a place to begin.

"I don't know." And Adam feels something dark in his stomach at the idea of singing here, something unpleasant, but it's not fear; he doesn't know what it is, but he doesn't want to try, not here in this place with the cold stone walls. But he turns to look at Tommy, even from as close as they're sitting, and he says, "I'll stay with you." Isn't that what he said before he lost his wings? It's still true.


	13. Chapter 13

`Dr. Lane: So, tell me, Tommy. You've been here a week now, how do you feel?`

`Tommy: How does someone start a new life? What things do I need? How would I get a job? I don't want to be here. I don't think either me or Adam should be here 'cause we're not hurting anyone. We're not hurting each other. You want to help us? Then... _help_ us. Let us go so we can... I don't know. Do the things that people do. I don't like those pills because they make it hard to think.`

`Dr. Lane: Okay, so ... let me make sure I got all of that. You want to get job? There are jobs you can do here, Tommy. You can work in the laundry, or you can help clean. It doesn't pay much but it can be very rewarding. Do you think the other people are here because they hurt someone?`

`Tommy: Not the ones we see... I need money. To... to get things. Somewhere to live, maybe. Or to get some real clothes. I had an iPod and everything, it was at the church with my wet clothes. I want to play guitar. I _can_ play guitar, you know. Do you know what it's like to have nothing?`

`Dr. Lane: No, I don't. I understand you're frustrated, clearly, but how are you feeling? They tell me that you don't sleep very much at night. Are you still thinking that ... the Others are coming for you?`

`Tommy: Wouldn't you orry about it, if it was you? If it was your soul? I know I shouldn't have gotten into bed with Adam, but... he's... he understands. It wasn't- I wasn't trying to do anything. I just wanted the company.`

`Dr. Lane: We try to discourage fraternizing between the patients, Tommy, you know this. You still believe that someone is coming for your soul? How do you know this?`

`Tommy: Not _just_ mine. [avoids eye contact] He knows what it's like. He's going through the same thing. We don't know what to do or where to start. Because we don't belong here. We really don't, Doctor. I'd like to go back to my room now.`


	14. Chapter 14

"Did she say she's going to move you?" Adam asks, his voice a whisper. The pill he was supposed to take after supper has been flushed in the toilet. He didn't like how it made things foggy. He and Tommy are huddled in his bed; Adam's back is against the wall, Tommy's back pressed to his chest. "Can you stay here?"

"I wanna stay here," Tommy whispers back, covering one of Adam's hands with his own. "She didn't say she was going to move me, but she said that fraternizing with other patients isn't encouraged. Like we're strangers or something." He shivers, even if Adam's warm and they're covered with a blanket. He shouldn't be here and he _knows_ he shouldn't be here. "I don't even know how to try to get out."

"People come and go all day," Adam says. But they come and go behind the doors that have wire mesh over them. The doors that lock. "Allison says that sometimes people go to halfway houses. She said those are houses where people live together, but they're independent." Allison is the only other person Adam talks to in the hospital; she's manic depressive.

Tommy twists around so he and Adam are facing each other. "Do you think they'd let us? I don't want to be here anymore. We didn't have our wings taken just to be put in a hospital and told that we make things up. That can't be why this happened. We have to be here for something other than that." Tommy tucks himself up against Adam, forehead to the side of Adam's throat, arm across his waist.

An interesting thing happens now, when Tommy is close. Adam feels as if his skin tingles. He's found he is drawn to the way that Tommy's smells when Adam puts his nose in his hair. He likes touching Tommy too, running his hand over the thin material of the scrubs to feel the muscle there, and the bone. "I think we have to prove that we've ... grown to go." Which means they need to learn what it is they are supposed to say.

"That we deserve to go? That we know enough to go?" Tommy's sure they could fake it, somehow. "I'm gonna give you a last name." That'd be a good start, right? Long fingers spread out on Adam's back, under his shirt, where the skin's warm, and as he's found out, freckled. Who knew that angels had freckles, anyway? When Tommy talks again, Adam can feel the movement of his mouth, and then the curve of his smile. "Something with 'Lamb' in it. You know, _Agnus Dei_ and all that shit, right? Lamb. Lamb. Lambert?"

"Lambert." Adam feels the word on his tongue and he nods slowly. "Adam Lambert." Yes. "You need one too, then." Though they still have no identification. One step at a time, he supposes. "Tommy." Then he knows, nodding again. "The first case we shared. Joe Ratliff. Tommy Joe Ratliff will be your name."

"As long as you don't _call_ me Tommy Joe? I like it." There's Tommy's smile again, and Adam can feel the way Tommy's fingertips tighten against his back in some kind of a hug. "You _totally_ beat me on that case, too." Tommy imagines what it would be like to be a Ratliff, trying to remember details of the other man's life. What he'd been like. A decent kind of guy, a little rough around the edges sometimes, a good heart. A musician. Kind of like Tommy _had_ been and something Tommy can work for.

"Tommy Ratliff." And Adam smiles. There is something he finds so _gratifying_ about touch. He never appreciated it before, not really. He finds himself looking into Tommy's eyes. "And ... no one is after us. We are ... _normal_."

Holy Christ, Adam's so close. Er, sorry JC, didn't mean for Tommy to take Your name in vain, but yeah. That's how close Adam is. "Did you want to make _me_ good? Is that why you asked to stay? You thought-" Adam can all but feel Tommy's smile against his lower lip, when Tommy tips his head up to look at Adam, properly. "You believed in me. That's... thank you." The idea of being normal seems suddenly okay. They've taken some kind of minimal, menial step that humans take for granted by birth, but having a last name is the beginning of adaptation. "You don't look normal. Not compared to the other people, here. You still look like an angel, a little."

"I do?" Adam finds he doesn't look at himself much in the mirror beyond getting past his surprise at his appearance. "You don't look like a demon," he says with another smile. "You look like you did before, I think."

"Lights out!" They hear, and it goes darker (darker, anyway, never really dark). Adam instinctively holds on to Tommy tighter. "I want to stay with you."

"They're going to make me leave," Tommy whispers back. "They're going to make me go to my own bed." Is it weird that he's flattered when Adam says he doesn't look like a demon? Or that he's relieved? Wait, does that mean he's not quite so good-looking? Not that it matters, not here, not now. "Who's on nights tonight? Ryan or Doug?" Doug's not quite as staunch with the rules as Ryan is; Tommy and Adam share a room, so as long as they _stay_ in that room and nothing totally out of whack is happening, then they're fine. Ryan makes sure they're in their own beds.

"I think I saw Doug," Adam tells him. "Stay with me, please." He pushes the hair from Tommy's face. "We ... tomorrow, we should talk to the doctor and tell her ... things." What, though, he doesn't know. He's still learning.


	15. Chapter 15

`Dr. Lane: Good afternoon, Adam! You look like you're in a good mood today. Want to tell me what's making you smile?`

`Adam: I ... I remembered. My last name. I'm Adam Lambert. I'm Adam Lambert. I was born in ... San Diego. That's in California."`

`Dr. Lane: Adam, that's wonderful news! Do you know anything else about your past? Maybe we can find some records of you. Find your family, if you'd like. How do you feel about that?`

`Adam: I [patient seems confused] I don't ... I don't need to see them. It's been ... It's been a long time. I was ... very young when I left home.`

`Dr. Lane: What about a birth certificate? Do you know when you were born? I'm very proud of you... But we also need to make sure you're not making this up. I hope you understand.`

`Adam: I ... lost it. When I came here. I - my birthday is January. January 29th. I was born in 1982. It was ... I felt like I woke up and I knew more.`

`Dr. Lane: I can look into having a birth certificate reissued for you. But I'd like to know why you thought you were an angel. Do you still feel like that's what you were?`

`[patient pauses for a long time and looks away]`

`Adam: I don't know why. I guess I was wrong.`


	16. Chapter 16

`Dr. Lane: It's been an eventful month for you, Tommy, hasn't it? Since you got here.`

`[patient nods]`

`Tommy: I realized a lot of things, you know? I'm not what I thought I was. I'm just a guy that has to start over. And I didn't realize how much help I needed, I guess.`

`Dr. Lane: I'm very proud of both of you. You've made very good progress. You and Adam are still extremely close, aren't you? Sometimes we look at that as a concern. It can be viewed as co-dependent.`

`Tommy: Adam's the one thing I remember clearly from before coming here. He's my friend and... yeah. We're really close. I trust him and he trusts me. We used to go a long time without seeing each other, and then this happened, and we've put aside what we didn't like about each other. [looks away] When he thought he was an angel, he always wore white, and I would _dish_ on him for it. Shit like that. Now... we're friends.`

`Dr. Lane: Well, I have to say I'm impressed with your progress. Keep it up and I can make a good case for the outpatient situation we talked about.`

`Tommy: I'm... I'm trying really hard.`


	17. Chapter 17

Tommy greets Adam with a little half-smile. Now they're on the other side of those wired windows and locking doors. They're on their way out. "I think that we should make the driver take us to McDonalds before going to Bolger House. What kind of a name is Bolger, anyway?"

Adam can't keep from looking back over his shoulder at the hospital. Nearly eight weeks inside, smelling nothing but antiseptic and cleansers except when Tommy was close. They are far from free now, but at least they aren't in there. Except that they recognize the police officer who pulls up in front of them and signs the forms from Ryan. "Officer Bell," Adam greets.

"Hey look. You got shoes. C'mon, boys. Let's take you to your new home. You doing all right?"

Tommy smiles and nods, but there's something about the curve of his lips and the way he looks at Officer Bell that says _fuck you._ But he doesn't _say_ anything, so there's no trouble. When he decides that his mouth isn't going to say anything out of line, he asks, politely, "Can I have a Big Mac?" They've got clothes, some money, an address. Birth certificates, social security numbers. Things neither of them would have ever _thought_ of needing, and having those things now makes him want to reach for Adam's hand. Just to make sure he's real, too.

"Big Macs, huh." As he climbs behind the wheel, the officer nods. "Guess we can go through the drive-through, sure."

In the back seat again, Adam does reach for Tommy's hand. In his other hand is a small bag of toiletries: a razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, a bar of soap and deodorant. He and Tommy have to get jobs and there's a list of options in the bag as well. He looks out the window and tries not to think of that too much. "Is Bolger House nice?"

"It's not bad, yeah," Bell tells them. "Could be worse. It's clean and the Allens do a nice job running it, yeah."

The Allens, okay. The people who own the house, who're letting Tommy and Adam stay there. They're not going to be any trouble, he and Adam. Tommy just _wishes_ he'd been able to grab his music and guitars while he could have. He squeezes Adam's fingers. Maybe at the Allen's (which is way better than Bolger House, okay?), they won't get in trouble for wanting to be in the same room, or the same bed. Through the drive-through, he orders two burgers, two fries, two Cokes. For him and for Adam, because he's _dying_ to see how McDonalds will taste now that he's experienced all of these new, human things.

The food is warm and smells good. Good enough that Adam's mouth is watering, but he holds it with his other belongings until they get to where they'll be living.

The house is big, rambling, a little ramshackle, but for some reason, it makes Adam smile as he's let out of the back of the car. "This is it?"

"Yep. This is where you'll be living, as long as you guys stay on the straight and narrow. I knew you were good guys," the officer tells them, then he hitches up his belt and takes the clipboard up to the two people who are standing on the big wraparound porch.

Adam stands close to Tommy. "I think I'm nervous," he whispers.

"We're not in there anymore, so you shouldn't feel nervous." He gives Adam's hand one more squeeze and finds a smile for the couple that Officer Bell is talking to. Mrs. Allen, he assumes, is little and blonde and smiley, and Mr. Allen is about the same height, dark, studious as he signs the papers the officer's brought. "They _look_ nice," Tommy whispers, but he still moves half a step closer to Adam. He wants _in_ on his burger, and doesn't want to stand out here much longer. At least, not until it's dark, and then maybe they can sit on the porch and look up at the heavens, instead of a plain white ceiling.

The Allens do look nice, Adam thinks and he nods. So there is nothing to do but walk up (letting go of Tommy's hand - they've learned this). Officer Bell even introduces them and like they've learned, Adam offers his hand. "Thank you."

"Good to have you here. C'mon in." Kris Allen gives them both a smile, shaking both Adam's and Tommy's hand. "Let's get you settled. "Look like you got lunch already, huh?"

"Yeah," Tommy answers, smiling for real. It's easy to match the one that's greeting them, from both Kris and (as they find out) Katy. "McDonalds. I've been craving it. Uh, you mind if we get our rooms sorted out? Never done something like this before, so I don't know if there's anything else we're supposed to do?" He's sure that Officer Bell gave the Allens their names - made up to both Adam and Tommy, but real to everyone else - and he's wondering what kind of room they'll have. What kind of life they're about to learn.

"Always feels better to get settled, huh?" Kris nods and gestures for them to follow inside, pointing as he goes. "Kitchen's in the back. Later, we'll talk about some basic house rules, but laundry's back there too - you do your own. But your rooms are up the stairs here. We have a few other guys staying here too right now, but you don't mind roomin' together?" He starts up the stairs. The house inside is a little spartan, but to Adam, it feels warm.

"No," Adam tells him. "We don't mind rooming together." He feels something ease in him with that knowledge.

Laundry! Tommy knows how to do laundry; he'd taken the job offered to him for that little bit of extra money, so he can totally take care of that. Tommy follows Kris up the stairs to his and Adam's room, the door opening on a space with two single beds, a pair of dressers, and a door, of course, that doesn't lock. "It's nice. Thanks." He glances at Adam, setting his stuff on the floor. "What bed do you want, Angel?" Oh. Oops. "Sorry, old nickname." Right. A nickname.

"The one by the window," Adam says, though both beds are by the window. The slip makes him smile, though, too; he feels safe when Tommy says that for some reason; a real secret just for the two of them.

"You guys make yourself to home. Bathroom's two doors down. Everybody works together to keep it clean. We have other rules, too, but that can wait until you come downstairs. So you guys get settled," Kris tells them, watching them both. "Katy 'n I will be downstairs if you need anything."

"Thank you," Adam tells him. There's something about Kris that makes Adam less nervous too. But then he and Tommy are alone and he sits on 'his' bed and sets down his things. He looks over at Tommy and tries on another smile. "What do you think?"

The smile looks good on Adam, in Tommy's humbled opinion - everything about him is newly humbled, thanks to being with Adam - and he sets his bag down to dig into the McDonalds. The first bite into the Big Mac has him shooting a look at Adam. _Eat. Now. So, so good._ Once he's finished chewing that first glorious bite, he falls back on the bed, littering lettuce up the front of his shirt. "I think I can get into being human. Maybe... maybe the minister at the church was doing the right thing. Maybe he was showing you the path we're supposed to take." Not Tommy, obviously, because Tommy was never an angel.

"He was afraid of us," Adam tells him, as he takes a few fries and eats them slowly. Even though they're kind of cold, they are so salty and crunchy that he doesn't say anything as he eats them. The soda's sweetness is almost cloying; a dramatic difference from the food they'd been served in the hospital, all things that had been pureed. "I think the Allens are good. Did you see that?"

"Mmh," Tommy nods, already with his mouth full of more burger. Yeah, this shit is _good_, and after he licks all the dressing from his fingers, and even picks the little lettuce bits off his shirt and out of the cardboard box to eat those, too, Tommy sets onto the Coke, all but chugging it back. "I'm kinda glad that not everyone's as tall as you." This afternoon, they'll learn the house rules. Tonight, the Allens will make them dinner, until they can go out tomorrow and buy food of their own to prepare. And when it's dark... will there be enough room in Adam's bed for Tommy?

They find out that there is, and it will be better when it's light and they can move the furniture around some so that his bed is against the wall again.

The rules aren't outrageous and what stands out most to Adam and Tommy is that the Allens treat those who live there with respect (even though, some are clearly more 'challenged' than Adam and Tommy are). And they can see the sky from their window. Tommy's hair smells like new shampoo and Adam tightens his hold. "Should we go to church with them on Sunday?" He asks. It had been an invitation, not a requirement.

"Not yet," Tommy answers, looking into the dark at the empty bed. The bed that _should_ be his, except... this is where it feels like he should be. They _fit_ like this, light and dark, and as usual, Tommy squirms around so they're facing each other, again, light to dark, Adam's blue eyes to Tommy's brown, and Tommy feels like he can see them clearly, even in the dark. "Maybe next time, though. I just... I don't feel ready yet." One arm's tucked under the pillow beneath their heads, and the other arm slides around Adam's waist, keeping him nice and warm and close. Something crosses Tommy's face, just for a fraction of a second, something like fear and worry and another emotion he hasn't paired with a word yet, and then he touches his mouth to Adam's, soft and different again from the last kiss they'd shared.

It catches Adam off guard and he keeps his eyes open, at first. But Tommy's mouth against his is gentle, not harsh, like a part of a memory tells him it had been at one time. Once. Back when. Now it's soft and it makes Adam's chest feel tight. His fingers curl, fisting some of the material of Tommy's t-shirt. He's not sure how to, but he kisses back.

The first time Tommy had kissed Adam, there'd been _reason_ behind it, dark, greedy, tempting. Trying to fell an Angel. The second time had been in a sense of remembrance of what Tommy had once been, long before. This time, his lips part just a little bit and he slides a hand under Adam's shirt so that his fingertips climb up the line of his back. _Sweet with heat_, his brain rhymes, and Adam can feel the shape of Tommy's smile on his lips.

It's that smile that soothes Adam the most, the rest of his anxiety fading under Tommy's fingers and against his mouth. Adam learns how to kiss, how to taste Tommy's mouth and it, he finds, is Good. The best thing since becoming human. His hands start to shake, though, a few minutes later, his body feeling fevered and tense. "Tommy?" he asks in a whisper.

"What's wrong?" Tommy answers, chin tipped up, mouth just a breath away. Just... so _close._ To something that's warm and shaped like Adam's mouth, even though he can feel the tension in Adam's body. "Are you okay?" Is it desire that Adam feels? Tommy knows it to see it, in magazines and movies and on the internet, but to feel it is something completely different. His attempt at seducing Adam had been under suggestion from Those Below, and it hadn't felt like this. Then, it'd felt angry and burning, a need to _take_, when right now, Tommy wants to _give._ Maybe if he doesn't kiss Adam on the mouth, it'll help. Maybe if he kisses his neck, instead, where the skin tastes different...

Adam's breath escapes in a barely-voiced sigh as he tilts his head back. The skin under Tommy's mouth prickles and tingles and Adam feels the gooseflesh run over his shoulders and down his arms. What he's most caught by though is what feels like a pool of heat in the cradle of his hips. It feels like an urge, like a drive and he's moving before he realizes he is, rocking his hips. They touch Tommy's and _that_ sensation makes Adam gasp in a breath.

But it doesn't feel like _quite_ enough, and Tommy edges one of his legs between Adam's, giving him something a little more substantial, if he wants to move again. It's exactly what Tommy thought it was; he can feel it, hot and hard against his thigh, and for a moment, his kisses go open-mouthed and distracted on Adam's skin. This isn't temptation, he has to remind himself. This is what it is, because they're human, and this is what humans do with each other.

It is, however, something Adam has _never_ experienced. It's entirely new, entirely foreign, entirely elating. Instinct - something beyond thought - tells him to move again and he does and this time, he can't help the cry that escapes. It's - now he knows why so many people sinned. Because of _this_. Now he _understands_.

"Shh," Tommy warns, and even that sibilant sound comes out shaky. There's probably a reason there are two beds in the room, that the Allens don't want their boarders doing what they're doing _right now._ Tommy guides Adam's mouth back to his, so in case Adam _does_ make more sound, Tommy can stifle it. His own hips move, making his breath catch and his eyes squeeze shut, and Adam can feel the touch of Tommy's tongue against his lower lip as he deepens the kiss.

It makes Adam _shake_. He holds to Tommy's shoulders, white-knuckled, because he's shaking. His body feels as if it's rebelling, honestly. Hot, tingling, uncontrolled. Tommy's tongue against his should feel _dirty_, depraved. Instead, it feels _good_. Perhaps he looks pained, the strained look on his face, but it's not pain. No, even this, just this is like a pleasure he can't even describe.

They're in the dark and Tommy's got his eyes closed, but he can _feel_ the way Adam's body is tight, the way his mouth is soft, but his kisses are grabby; the way Adam's hands almost hurt in their grip. All it takes is a nudge and a shift, and Tommy's below Adam, giving Adam more leverage to do what his body's telling him to do. And it frees Tommy's other hand to let it slide into Adam's hair, pulling it so he can kiss down Adam's throat again, feeling the whir of his pulse under his lips.

How does his body know what to do though? Adam knows what the Bible speaks of, an intimate act between a man and a woman, in the bonds of holy marriage. This is not that. And yes, there had been ... talks ... about men lying with men. However, this cannot, he thinks, feel wrong. This cannot be wrong, what this is. Adam rocks his hips now, a steady rhythm to it and the urge is to be skin against skin but he doesn't even get there, not before his breath catches in his throat and something like a wave floods through him. It's like bliss.

Tommy looks up at Adam with something like surprise, eyes wide now, seeing the way Adam's body stiffens at the same time that he can feel the jerk of his pleasure, below. Does Adam not know how many times the Bible's been translated? What's been added and taken out by popes and monarchs? How it's been transcribed by illiterate hands? He must know that God wouldn't have created something that felt like this if He didn't want anyone to do it. "Oh," Tommy breathes, so soft, skimming a hand up Adam's back. "Wow."

Adam can't even talk. All his muscles feel loose and weak, he's hot and sweating, his cheek against Tommy's as he keeps his eyes closed. He knows he should feel shame and perhaps he does, flitting around the edges. However, he can't, not really. "I ... I really liked that," he whispers.

"Good," Tommy answers, low and indistinct, his hand petting back and forth over the soft mess of Adam's hair. "I think it's supposed to feel really good. When..." Tommy bites his bottom lip, moving his own hips a little, feeling a sharp stab of heat for his efforts. "When that happens. And when it's with someone who wants it." It's one of the LaVeyan rules that Tommy likes best: that people can sleep with whoever they want, as long as nobody's getting hurt, and as long as it's not chi- Ugh. His brain doesn't even finish that thought, because he'd rather stay right here, where Adam is.

A hand slides down Tommy's arm to his hip and even though it vaguely occurs to Adam that he might be crushing Tommy with his weight, he can't move. Doesn't move; perhaps his legs are still shaking. But he urges Tommy up. Share and share alike. "Does it feel good?" He asks, mouth against Tommy's ear.

"Oh, _yes_," Tommy breathes, and just with that little bit of encouragement, Tommy's own desire is brought up like fire. Adam's weight is comforting on the most obvious level, but it also gives Tommy something solid to push up against, to rub against, and he turns his head just that little bit to catch Adam's mouth. "Do... do you want to touch me? I want that."

"I - " There's a stab of nervousness; Adam very rarely touches himself and has only held Tommy, or Tommy's hand. "I - " But he nods and knows enough to shift to the side and reach down.

Even with his pajama pants between them, Tommy is hot (and his pants slightly damp). Adam's hand is hot and shaky as he touches, fingertips running along the length.

Somehow, that light touch feels _electric_, and Tommy pushes his hips up against it, and he jitters out, "Mmh- maybe use your... your palm?" He turns his head to follow where Adam moves, as if wanting more of those hot kisses, something to balance what Adam's hand is doing, making Tommy feel dizzy and tight and _hot_. "Something-" Tommy gasps against the corner of Adam's mouth. "Something's-" Something's happening, something's _going_ to happen. Soon. Fast.

His eyes closed tight, Adam nods. He knows what of Tommy speaks. He knows - he _knows_ and he wants Tommy to feel _amazing_, like he did. He rubs again, the heel of his hand this time and he pushes it down the length of that hardness he feels there. Friction, he's already learned. It's good.

Tommy lets out a low, quiet groan when that sense of _need_ breaks into something that's a combination of relief and deep, stark pleasure, one hand caught in Adam's hair and the other splayed out against skin that's warm, beneath Adam's shirt. The white he sees behind his eyelids isn't quite what he remembers Up There looking like, but it feels very, very close.

Tommy's sleep pants are wet now too. Adam isn't naive enough not to know what it is, but he will admit that it took a moment to connect the wetness to the sensation of bliss. It cools quickly too, he's found. However, he finds himself loathe to move just yet. His forehead is pressed to Tommy's temple and his eyes are almost completely shut. He splays his hand on Tommy's stomach and smiles.

When his breath slows, Tommy turns to kiss Adam's cheekbone, because it's the first thing his mouth comes up against. "I think we just had sex." Or something close to it; magazines and movies and the internet don't exactly _explain_ the details of what qualifies as sex. Not that Tommy exactly cares right now, when he's warm right down to his bones, both from what they've done and from Adam's weight. "I wasn't... I wasn't trying to... you know. Like, before." Tommy had kissed Adam because he's thankful that he's _got_ him, that they're together.

"I know you weren't." About sex, Adam doesn't know, though. Perhaps he can get a book about it; Kris told them where the library was. He nudges his mouth against Tommy's again; it's addictive, how this feels. And after a moment, he thinks to wriggle out of the pants that are sticky and cold and he tugs at Tommy's too. Shame isn't allowed to build. Instead, he seeks what feels good. There are _so many_ things.


	18. Chapter 18

After breakfast, Adam and Tommy are asked to clean the bathroom and they agree amiably. What Adam finds is that when he looks at Tommy, he feels his face heat. Not with embarrassment, but with want and with what he can only call happiness. He knows better than to touch, but he wants to. Badly. He wants to chase the sensations they learned about last night. It's heady.

Tommy smiles at Adam whenever he catches him looking, even when he's on his hands and knees trying to scrub the bathtub. They'd been supervised in the hospital whenever they'd have to clean up, but here, he realizes they'll have the privacy to do it on their own. Not that he cares who sees him; modesty isn't something he feels around Adam. The colour in Adam's face only serves to remind Tommy of last night in the hot, sticky dark, how Adam's mouth had tasted and how his hand had felt, and oddly enough, how Tommy's _heart_ had felt, too. "I'm gonna get those pants washed... you want me to do your sheets and stuff too?"

"Yes." And of course, the mention of the sheets makes Adam's face feel hotter and he looks down, smiling almost helplessly. "And we can move the beds." Kris had said that was okay. As he goes to wash out his sponge, though, he brushes his knuckles along Tommy's back. To just do that feels like eating a butterscotch candy; sweet and special.

"Good. Okay." Adam's touch doesn't go unnoticed, not in the slightest. It makes Tommy grin first at nothing at all, then at Adam, feeling a shiver run up his spine and across his shoulders. They finish up in the bathroom and it's back to their room where Tommy gathers up the laundry to get ready once Monte's done with the washer. The few other people they've met here have been nice enough: Tommy thinks that there are maybe seven or eight other people, even though the only one he's actually met other than Kris and Katy is Monte, whose hair sticks up and who seems to like music a lot, too. Then he flops onto his back on his own bed, hands behind his head, to look at the ceiling. "Can you imagine what it'll be like when we're not here anymore?" It's only been one day, not even 24 hours, and he's thinking about the next step. What to do with every little bit of freedom they're discovering.

"We have to get jobs first." At least they've learned that. They get jobs with the documents like what Adam has in the top drawer of his dresser. But he sits on the edge of Tommy's bed, splaying his hand on Tommy's chest. "I want you," he says, voice lowered to a whisper, husky even. "I ... I can't stop thinking about it. About what we did. I want to do it again."

The tone of Adam's voice makes Tommy suddenly flushed, makes his heart feel thundery and fast, and he nods. He feels it too, he _wants_ it, too. "Shut the door." They'll get jobs soon enough, even though Tommy's not even sure _how_ to get a job, or what he'd be good at. All he can think of at this second is how Adam looks, how he knows Adam'll feel, and Tommy arches his back to pull off his t-shirt. Adam wasn't the only one who'd thought about skin against skin.

"We're not supposed to during the day...." Part of the rules that Kris and Katy laid out. But the want that wells up in the back of Adam's throat makes him a little dizzy. He closes the door and he climbs over Tommy's body and loses himself there, in friction and heat and kisses that taste like love.


	19. Chapter 19

Adam can hear Tommy thunder up the stairs, and he all but throws himself at Adam. "Check _this_ out!" He holds out a plastic-wrapped package with a blue shirt in it, and embroidered on it is... the Golden Arches. "They hired me! I'll be able to get Big Macs for _free._" There'd been talk of things Tommy had no idea about, wages and benefits and funding for education if he wanted it. The only thing he can dwell on is the fact that he's got a _job._ "I start the day after tomorrow, awesome, huh?"

"You got a job!" Adam all but beams, setting down his book. "I'm so proud of you." And Big Macs for free can't be a bad thing. He tugs Tommy in to a hug. "I went to that coffee seller, where we used to meet, around the corner and I filled out an application. They said they would call if there is an opening." A job! One of the necessities. "We have to meet with Dr. Lane next week. She'll be pleased with your progress."

"Ugh, I love Starbucks. Imagine, free Big Macs and free Starbucks. That's _awesome._ What're you reading?" Tommy tosses his uniform on his own bed and climbs on Adam, and the hands he slides under Adam's shirt are cold. Yes, it's deliberate, and yes, it's because he wants to touch Adam, too. "You say it like it's all me, and it's not. You're looking too. I just... I hate that they think we're crazy. Because they don't _know._ And They already have someone to replace me, by the way. Apparently he likes McDonalds, too." It's reassuring, even in a little way, to know that Tommy can still See, even if he and Adam are detached from that, now.

"We're not going to change her mind," Adam whispers, even if he shivers at the touch, how cold Tommy's hands are, even if they warm quickly. "We just need her to think we're getting better for six more months." Then they can be free. Truly free. "You saw a demon? Did you see any ... others?"

Really, six months is nothing. It's a blink of time compared to how long they've lived already. Tommy slides his hands around so he's wrapped around Adam's body, comfortable in its warmth. And to think, Adam had once been his enemy. How stupid. "I see them everywhere, don't you?" Adam's question makes Tommy look at him seriously, and there's fear on his face. What if Adam _doesn't_ see Them anymore? What if he's the only one?

"I ... don't know. I think ... I think Kris is special, but ... I don't know." Adam frowns because while he hasn't gone out much, but he's not seen any. "Maybe I can't," he says and it feels like something's lost. "Do you think I've lost it? When I lost my wings?"

"I didn't lose mine, though," Tommy reasons, and he squirms Adam around so he can touch his shoulderblades, where his wings had been not so long ago. "Have you been trying? At first, I just saw them out of, like, my peripheral, you know? But now I don't even need to try." He wants to tell Adam that he can still see where his wings were, how they'd spread, how they're tissue-paper transparent, like ghost-wings. Does that make him crazy? Is he imagining it? Tommy disentangles himself from Adam and stands in the middle of the floor. "See if you can see anything with me. I think you're right about Kris, but he's not like you were, or like I was. I think he's something else."

Adam closes and opens his eyes and he looks at Tommy. He scans over the outline of his body, his shoulders, hands (hands that have long, dexterous fingers - Adam feels his face heat). So he shakes his head again and concentrates again. "I don't see anything," he says, and his brows knit. "But you were cleansed. Maybe I won't." Perhaps he sounds like he's pleading.

For a moment, Tommy looks genuinely, deeply troubled. Even the way Adam looks at him doesn't help. If Tommy was cleansed, why wasn't he cleansed all the way? Why would They have allowed Adam to have his wings stripped for protecting Tommy, and then not allow him some kind of Gift afterward? He sits on the edge of the bed near Adam's hip, elbows resting on his knees, looking at the floor. "I don't want to... I don't want to be different from you anymore. Not like we were before, and not like now, when I can see things and you can't."

"Maybe I can't See. But ... maybe there are ... I don't know." But Adam knows he doesn't like Tommy looking sad. Adam puts his arm around Tommy and pulls him to his chest and he kisses his hair. "When you were away, Kris was playing music. There was this very pretty song, he was playing on his stereo downstairs. It was about God." If he closes his eyes, he can hear it and remember the words and how it went (it was so striking to him) and he tries to reproduce it. To make Tommy happy, you see.

"I found God  
On the corner of first and Amistad  
Where the west was all but won  
All alone, smoking his last cigarette  
I Said where you been, he said ask anything  
Where were you?  
When everything was falling apart  
All my days were spent by the telephone  
It never rang  
And all I needed was a call  
That never came  
To the corner of first and Amistad

Lost and insecure  
You found me, you found me  
Lying on the floor  
Surrounded, surrounded  
Why'd you have to wait?  
Where were you? Where were you?  
Just a little late  
You found me, you found me...."

God. Yes, Tommy means You, are You listening? Because Adam's voice is something beyond sublime, smooth and textured in a way that Tommy feels like he could reach out and touch. He closes his eyes and just _listens_, head back on Adam's shoulder, letting the words move him. "You should get a job as a singer." It seems like such a stupid, unrealistic thing to say, but it feels like it makes perfect sense at the same time. "I never knew your voice could sound like that."

Adam's singing doesn't only draw Tommy though. Monte and Kris appear at the door of their room. Kris has his hands in his pockets, his head cocked. " ... you liked that song, huh?"

"I liked that song, yes." Adam instinctively tightens his arm around Tommy's shoulders. "I don't know if I could get a job as a singer, though."

"Open mic." Monte pipes up, nodding. "Open mic. They do open mic."

"... I don't know what that is," Adam says.

"At bars sometimes, bands will let someone come up and play an instrument with them, or sing with them," Kris explains. "Or there's Karaoke, where you sing along with a recording. It doesn't pay though. Plus you guys aren't allowed in bars. But you could always come to church with us and sing."

Church. Adam looks away.

"Why aren't we allowed in bars?" Tommy asks. "We're old enough." There's a little smirk that goes with that. Oh yeah, they're _plenty_ old enough. Maybe it's in the papers that Kris signed when Officer Bell dropped them off. That's stupid, though. The other option that Kris mentions, church, makes him feel just a little bit sick in the pit of his stomach. And no, it's not because of the Big Mac he'd scarfed after finding out he'd gotten the job at McDonalds, either. They've mentioned to each other about going back, just to see what would happen, but neither of them have found the courage.

"No drinking. It's not allowed." To his credit, Kris looks abashed. "Gotta keep you guys from temptation and all that."

At the mention of temptation, Adam's cheeks heat again. Temptation is in his arms, in the best way. "Tommy plays guitar," he says. "And I know you do, too, Monte. Perhaps we can all play together some time."

"Now, _that_ is a great idea," Kris tells them, grinning. "I got a few guitars sittin' around, too, if you need 'em."

Oh yeah, Tommy's definitely thinking of that kind of temptation, too. And there can't be anything bad about it, right? About having someone that he can be this close to, on all levels? If Kris says they're not allowed to drink, then... okay. They're not allowed to drink. Not that having alcohol's a big deal, when Tommy could practically drown himself in Coke, in this point. It's _so good._ The fizz is his favorite part. "Maybe tomorrow we can... I don't know. Play." He shifts back against Adam, back firm to Adam's chest, and taps out a little rhythm on the outside of Adam's leg. It'll be good to have a guitar in his hands again.

When Adam looks up, he sees the way Kris watches them, his head cocked a little to the side. Once again, his instincts have him tightening his arm around Tommy's waist.


	20. Chapter 20

It becomes a habit, after the supper they all have together. Those who aren't on clean-up duty and are interested gather in the big living room with the mismatched furniture and Tommy and Monte play guitars that they borrow from Kris. Sometimes Kris even plays too and Katy sits on the arm of the chair and she rubs his back. She looks pleased. Adam sings; he learns he's got an ear for a song. If he hears it once, he can sing it and when he sings, people seem to like to listen. Kris and Katy smile more brightly. And that's nice, but how Tommy looks at him is most important. He finds it warms his chest when he feels Tommy's smile.

While Adam's discovered his voice, Tommy learns how much he loves to hear Adam sing. How, when he'd been Dark, the thought of hearing an Angel sing made his skin crawl; it had been a weapon of Glory as much as anything else, to be touched by something Divine. With the money he's saved up from working less than a month at McDonalds, Tommy's bought one of those tiny little laptop computers, and Kris helped him get it set up, on the internet and everything. It's nice to have something like this that he's familiar with, and he gets music for he and Adam to listen to in their room, for Adam to sing along with, if he wants. And Tommy practices guitar, in his head.

They're called downstairs one day, though, on their days off. Adam works at Starbucks now and he comes home smelling of coffee. But on their day off, when Katy is out, Kris asks Tommy and Adam to come downstairs and he motions for them to sit at the dinner table. He sits across from them, his arms on the table, hands laced. "I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable, but I gotta ask you guys, okay? You know the rules like I do, and they frown on 'fraternizing,' right?" He looks over at them both. "So ... you guys aren't, are you."

Immediately, Adam realizes what it is Kris is saying. It's not really a question. Under the table, he squeezes Tommy's hand. "No, we're not."

Lying still sits heavy in his stomach.

Wait, _fraternizing_? Is Kris telling them that they can't have the one thing that Tommy's most familiar with? That's bullshit. But Adam _lies_, and for a second, Tommy's not even sure what to say. "What? N- no." Taking Adam's lead on this, because what if Kris separates them? Tommy can't think about that. They're still learning, right? Figuring out what it is that humans feel and say and do, where before the two of them (well, Tommy, anyway) had done whatever they wanted to. "We're just. He's. It's just. It's nothing. Right?" He returns the squeeze.

"Yeah, okay, good." Kris looks away for a moment and nods, clearly settling something for himself. "Okay, so." And he looks back at them both. "I gotta ask you something that'll probably make you think I'm crazy." He chuckled a little. "Sometimes I guess I see things that not a lot of people see. And when I look at y'all, I see something. That's vague as hell, but ... " He shrugs.

"What do you see?" Adam asks. He wraps his other hand around their joined hands, too. Something like butterflies is in his stomach.

"Well." Kris scratches at the back of his neck. "I guess sometimes when I look at y'all, I see ... wings. I mean, not wings? But ... the memory of wings."

Tommy shoots an alarmed look at Adam. Do they tell the truth? The _real_ truth and not the truth they've made up for themselves? Which is a bit of an oxymoron, but every day that they live as humans is another day that it _is_ the truth, reinforced in everyday things like work and being around each other. "Whose are black and whose are white?" he blurts, not even realizing what he's going to say until it's already spoken. His hand tightens in Adam's to the point that it makes his fingertips hurt, just a little.

Something like relief paints itself over Kris's face. "Well," he says again. "Yours are black, no offense, Tommy, cuz you seem like a real good guy. You both do."

"... that's what you see?" Adam asks it in an almost disbelieving whisper. "Really?"

"Yeah," Kris answers. "I really do. And you were white as white can get."

"They said we were crazy," Tommy said, his tone flat and as disbelieving as Adam's. "I can See, too. Adam's are like... those curtains that you can see through. Like ghosts." That Kris still sees his wings as black bothers Tommy, deeply. When his wings had been taken, they'd been black, yes, but before that, they'd been pale grey; he'd worked so _hard_ to be Good. Does this mean that he's still marked? "Mine were taken. Adam's were torn off. So... we're human. I knew you were different. I just... you're not like either of us, though."

"People don't get it. They want God, but you give 'em evidence and they freak." Kris chuckles again. "I know. And I know you gotta say something different. I get that. Just ... so you know. I know, or whatever. Makes me sound like James Bond or somethin', but you're good guys and I'm sorry what happened to you. Real sorry."

"Tommy's wings weren't black, though," Adam says, and under the table, he rubs at Tommy's knuckles. "They were gray like doves. He was trying to help me."

"All I can see is shadowy, like I said, so ... " Kris tells Tommy, "I might have it wrong. I half-expected y'all to laugh at me, anyway."

"I'm not laughing." In fact, Tommy's watching Kris very closely. "That's exactly it, though. The minister at the church didn't believe us, and he's..." He's supposed to be a man of God. For all their worship and fear, do people know anything about God? Or what kind of battle actually happens for their souls? The feel of Adam's thumb soothes him, though, and he flicks a little smile at him. "Mine was by choice, though. So it's okay. Adam's... wasn't."

"I can't explain why people do things or why ... well ... why most others, period, do what they do. Pastor Haley, he's a good guy, but yeah, he's ... well, nobody's perfect, right? I'm sure not. So," says Kris. "I guess I need to ask and y'all know your secret's safe with me. So ... you were an angel?"

Adam nods. "I was here to help Nathan Harriday." He remembers a great deal, actually from before.

"The kid who got hit by that bus?"

Another nod. "Tommy helped me; he's at peace now."

"But you weren't an angel," Kris says to Tommy. "Not quite, anyway?"

"I wasn't an angel at all." Tommy's gaze drops to the table, where he knows Adam's holding his hand beneath. "I... I was an angel, a _long_ time ago. And then I Fell. And I was a demon. Nathan Harriday's case made me rethink what I was doing... I don't - _didn't_ \- generally deal with kids. Ever. And I just thought that kids shouldn't die. Adam-" Who gets a quick look from Tommy, warmer than what a casual observer would see, before he continues. "Adam said he'd help me if I helped him."

"There was a fight. Then ... we both lost our wings and the pastor called the police and we were taken to the hospital and ... " Kris knows the rest. Adam looks over at Tommy, though, the whole time he speaks. "Now we just want to live." And love. But he doesn't say that. He's learning what's private. What to protect.

"I know. For what it's worth ... I believe you." Kris takes a deep breath and shrugs. "Tell you what. You guys feel like burgers? My treat. Real burgers. Not that fast food stuff." His grin turns just a little sly as he looks over at Tommy.

"Oh kiss my ass," Tommy retorts, and laughs. "Just because I flip cow doesn't mean it's _bad_cow. It just... might not be _entirely_ cow. So what." Way to break the tension, Kris. But that's sort of what he's there for, right? Tommy thinks he might be some kind of intermediate, something that's not Good or Bad, but simply Is. Like Emmie. The relief that follows the laughter is... pretty fantastic. Love, though. That's a word that Tommy knows, but hasn't been able to match with what he feels for Adam, because there are so many _other_ things tied to it. Gratitude and respect, desire and friendship. The friendship is what he values most. To have someone who understands him.

"C'mon. I know just the place," Kris tells them and he grabs the keys to his car.


	21. Chapter 21

`Dr. Lane: You look good. And it's been six months, so you know why you're here; today we make the call to see if you need to check in with us and stay at Bolger house any more, or not. I have to say that I'm impressed with the progress you've shown. I don't see that very often, not with where you were when you were brought in, Tommy.`

`Tommy: I've really been trying. Adam and I kind of support each other, you know? He was my friend when we got here, he rooms with me at Bolger. I feed him burgers and he gives me coffee. I don't know, it just works. [laughs] And Kris and Katy have been so awesome. They helped us figure out what we should be doing, what kind of places to look for when - well, if - we leave. Kris totally lets me play his guitar, and that's really helped, too. Adam sings.`

`Dr. Lane: So tell me. What goals do you have? It's always important to have goals; they help keep us focused. Mr. Allen's report is very complimentary; he speaks highly of both of you.`

`Tommy: Long term... the biggest thing is to, I don't know, be a good person. I don't think I was a very good person before me and Adam started being friends, so that's... I don't know, whatever. I'd like to work in a music store, you know? Selling guitars, or repairing them. I'd like to be in a band. I'd kinda like to make music that says something, or that people remember.`

`Dr. Lane: That's great to have dreams, Tommy. Do you ... are you and Adam planning on ... continuing your friendship?`

`Tommy: [looks a little bit surprised] Well, yeah. He's gonna be my roommate in the apartment we want to get. I mean, we've been living in the same _room_ for six months, so we know each other pretty well. And, well, you know how it was before that. Why, is that weird?`

`Dr. Lane. Not weird no. Do you feel you're ready for all that? Job, apartment, living on your own?`

`Tommy: I have a job! And we do all that other stuff, like groceries and laundry and stuff, and I think it'd be kinda good for us to be- to have our own space. I mean, away from the other people at Bolger. I can't wait, actually.`

`Dr. Lane: And no more delusions of a battle and war, angels and demons?`

`Tommy: [looks offended] Did I mention it?`

`Dr. Lane: I had to ask, Tommy.`


	22. Chapter 22

When Adam comes out of the hospital, he keeps his smile to himself until he's at the sidewalk, but then he shows Tommy the sheet of paper that says that Dr. Lane has officially discharged him. He wants to dance, to be honest, to swing Tommy around. Officially neither of them is considered crazy anymore.

"So?" Tommy flashes a pixied grin at Adam before turning to walk them toward Kris' car (something else on Tommy's list: learn to drive!). "When do you want to start looking for a real place?" There are places, Kris has told them, that come furnished for them, so maybe they won't have to worry about that sort of thing. Tommy's station had been furnished when he'd been delivered there, so hey, that's true. Not that Kris would lie to them, jeez (not Jesus! See? Tommy's learning!).

"I'd like to look soon," Adam tells him, finding his hand and squeezing it. The idea - being entirely alone with Tommy - makes his blood feel hot under his skin.

"Hey," Kris says, climbing out of the driver's seat. "All good?"

And Adam smiles. "All good."


	23. Chapter 23

The apartment is small - more a studio than anything else. The bathroom is small, but it has a has a big clawfoot tub. For some reason, that makes Adam smile. When they move in, both Tommy and Adam have a garbage bag's worth of possessions rather than the paper bag they had before and when Kris drops them off for the last time, he says to Tommy, "wait here, 'k? I got somethin' for you." And with that, he turns from the doorway and jogs back to the car.

For a minute, Tommy doesn't know what to do. They've got their place, and it's _theirs_. But what would Kris have for him? He's already done so much, so far, for both of them, including helping them move their few things into this place. Now they're going to learn what it's really like, having bills to pay and rent, and groceries. But they'll also be able to be _alone_, and thinking about what they could do when they're alone has the tips of Tommy's ears burning.

Adam is looking into their kitchen cabinets at the plates and glasses they got at the thrift store for a dollar, when Kris comes back. What he's got is obvious by the shape of the case and he hands it to Tommy. "Figured it would be something to get you started. Not the best one out there, but ... it's a good guitar."

Just as Tommy didn't know what to do, now he doesn't know what to say. Thank you doesn't feel like enough, but that's what comes out anyway. "Wow. That's... thank you. That's awesome. Thank you for... for everything. For helping and for totally not thinking we're crazy because of... well, you know." He takes the case and opens it, strummig his fingers over the strings, and then stands to give Kris a brief hug. "You and Katy should come over sometime. You know, just to hang out since we're not all your responsibility anymore or anything... Adam! Check it! Kris got me a guitar!"

"I see," Adam says, coming over with a smile. "Thank you. Dinner would be nice if you wanted to come over." Though, of course, neither of them know how to cook. There are, however, groceries in the cabinets. Cereal, macaroni and cheese and the like.

"You guys know where to find me, 'k?" Kris says as he steps back, hands going back in his pockets. "And you oughta come by for dinner now and again if you feel like it, too. And we'll come by to visit sure." He claps Adam on the arm too. "You guys take care. You're good guys."

"Thank you," Adam tells him, and he takes Tommy's hand. Here, in their new home, they can 'fraternize.' "You're a good person, Kris. You are a _good_ person."

"I try." And with that, Kris gives them a small salute, steps out into the hallway and closes the door. For the first time since they lost their wings, Adam and Tommy are truly alone.

What do they do now that they're alone? Tommy looks up at Adam with a smile before walking through the apartment, getting a _good_ look at it. At this place that isn't a station, but is going to be their home. "There's only one bed," he informs Adam, just in case he was curious. "It's... pretty big, too. C'mere and see."

"I know." But it is indeed a bigger bed, what Kris had said was a queen size, his ears turning red; he hadn't looked at Adam when he'd said that. There are sheets and blankets and a bedspread on it that Katy had helped pick out at the thrift store too, costing five dollars total. Adam walks over to their bed. If they sit on it, they can see the whole apartment; it's that small. But Adam finds he doesn't mind. They can hear the traffic from the street below and the sounds of people talking at the laundromat next door and down a floor. When he sits on the bed it squeaks a little bit, but that doesn't keep him from smiling. "We don't have to worry about anyone walking in on us anymore."

Adam's words earn him a sheepish little sidelong glance. "So... what do you wanna do, then? If... if nobody's going to walk in on us, I mean." They don't even have a television yet, not that it matters; Tommy's got his little laptop and he can download things if they want. They've got enough money to still get a few other things yet, but the thrift places have been _awesome_ for how cheap they are and what they've found. Tommy lies back and looks up at the ceiling, a familiar pose to Adam, by now. "It's so quiet. I mean, we've got all this space and nobody else is in it except us."

It's entirely new, this experience and Adam lets it happen; there's no need to rush. He knows some things will happen that they won't know how to deal with. But right now, that's not the case. He kicks off his shoes and scoots back on the bed, turning to sit facing Tommy, his legs crossed. He can lean forward then and rest a hand on Tommy's chest. He watches his fingers, how they bunch up the material of Tommy's shirt so he can feel real, warm skin. "I want to touch you," he whispers, even if they are alone.

There's no doubt in Tommy's mind _how_ Adam wants to touch him, so all he can do is smile and arch his back so Adam can push his shirt up further without it catching. "I kind of can't believe that... this is it. That we're moving on. That we did it, you know?" The tone of Tommy's voice is soft, unintentionally inviting, even if his words have absolutely nothing to do with what _they're_ going to do.

"I didn't know what to expect. But I ... I'm glad to be here with you. You said ... do you remember?" Adam asks as he lets Tommy's shirt fall to the floor. "You wanted to remember how love feels. I think we are learning that." And he braces his weight on the bed so he can bend down and put his mouth to Tommy's. They've learned to kiss; he's learned to use his tongue lick inside Tommy's mouth; it's _good_.

When Adam kisses him like that, Tommy responds by bringing his hands up to Adam's hair, lifting his hips at the same time. One's deliberate, one isn't, but Adam can feel how Tommy gets hard up against his hip. "Yeah," he whispers between kisses. "I remember what love is. I remember what it feels like." It feels as though... even though they've been stripped, reduced to this, that Heaven might still lie in Adam's arms. Tommy's hands move down Adam's back to pull his shirt off, too, and bit by bit, their clothes come off until they're skin to skin in their own bed.

Tommy's skin feels like washed silk, from what little Adam knows. It's warm under his hand. He watches it move from Tommy's hip up, spanning over his ribs and up further to cradle Tommy's jaw as they kiss. Adam has a leg between Tommy's. This feels luxurious. Decadent.

"That one video you showed me," Adam whispers. When they'd huddled together late, peering at the screen of Tommy's little computer. "Do you want ... ?"

Tommy feels his face _burn_ when Adam brings that up, but he finds that he's nodding. "It... it looks like it felt good. If it does, then I want to do it." He pushes up against Adam's thigh and lets out a breathy groan. Yeah, if it's going to feel anything like the way the people in that video had made it look, then he wants to try.

They know, then, from the other videos they watched, what needs to happen before _that_ can happen. Adam bought what they need, stopping one day on the way home from work. It's hidden in the back of the drawer of the night stand, so he gets that and he opens the tube. What comes out is slippery and clear; it fascinates him for a moment before he looks back at Tommy. Adam studies his face as he rubs that place between Tommy's legs, that tight pucker.

Tommy's breath escapes in a quick shudder, and he looks away from Adam for some reason, cheeks colouring red again. This feels _way_ more personal than anything they've done so far, touching and kissing, using hands instead of anything else in fear that they might get caught. For some reason, he's _really_ sensitive where Adam's touching him, and his muscles jump under his skin, cock (a word that still makes Tommy snicker) twitching against his hip.

Adam's whole body is splotched with blushes. He presses his face to Tommy's neck and rubs again. On the videos, this is fast and there are _noises_. Adam and Tommy are quiet. "Are you sure?" He whispers.

"Yeah." The videos probably don't show the first time these people do it; to Tommy, they all look like they know _exactly_ what they're doing, and they _like_ it. They don't show how it can feel _strange_ alongside the sensation of _good_, or tell how it fires up want and fear at the same time. "I think you're supposed to..." Tommy puts a hand over Adam's guiding his fingers just a little, pushing. "Do that."

Breath catching in his throat at the tight heat, Adam leans back so he can see Tommy's face as he pushed in further, where it's even hotter and tighter. He searches Tommy's face for any clues, or the ecstasy they see on those videos.

Tommy's eyes flutter closed, and Adam can see the tension in the line of his jaw and the way he holds his breath as Adam pushes forward. It's not painful (for some reason he'd thought it might be), but it's _tight_ and strange, and he forces himself to relax. It's Adam, who wouldn't hurt _anything_, and he's the one person that Tommy can trust completely. "It's okay," he breathes, and somehow finds a smile. "It's alright. Keep going."

How can it not hurt?, Adam wonders. At the same time, Tommy isn't moaning overtly. It's confusing. But he pushes his slick finger in farther, one knuckle then two. What then? The urge to bring comfort tells him; he kisses along Tommy's jaw as he moves that finger, mimicking the act. Sodomy. They are sodomites. He finds he doesn't like that word.

Especially after that whole deal with Sodom and Gomorrah, right? Tommy had been there, been part of that, and had run like hell (no pun intended) when the Wrath of God came down. This doesn't feel _anything_ like what had been happening there, what he'd helped encourage. He turns his head to taste Adam's mouth for a moment, a hand coming up to his jaw to hold him right there, and there's his first sound, muffled on the bow of Adam's lips, nearly as soft as a whisper, but very definitely a groan. Tommy moves his feet, spreading his knees further apart to give Adam silent, explicit permission.

"I love you," Adam whispers because it feels right to say. He moves more surely when he's confident that he's not hurting Tommy. There needs to be more, though, he knows that; he knows his 'size.' So he pushes two fingers in then.

"I love you too," Tommy answers, and to say it out loud for the first time instead of just thinking it, feels _so_ good, so right, and he lets out a long sigh, head tipped back now, and it's easier to relax, even when there's more being pushed into him. Physically, it feels good in a vague, burning way, until Adam touches him a certain way, moves his fingers differently, and he lets out a tight sound that's a lot closer to what they'd seen in the videos than anything else. "Oh- _yeah._"

The way he says it too has goosebumps running up Adam's back. He gasps in a breath and does what he did again. In that way, they learn, and when he guides himself inside Tommy for the first time, what feels like ages later, he stares first at where they are joining and then instead, up at Tommy's face, Adam's own mouth open in sensation and wonder. "Oh."

Tommy has to force his eyes open to look up at Adam. His concentration on what they're doing and how it _feels_ has almost all of his attention. "You- mm." His hands move restless and light on Adam's back, unable to settle in one spot for more than a moment before moving on. "You should. You should see yourself." That Adam was an angel is absolutely clear to Tommy right now, in the look on Adam's face, in the flecked blue of his eyes, even in the slow way it feels like he's stretching Tommy out. "Is it good? Is it as good as- as the video?"

"I - " Adam can only nod. There don't seem to be words for what this feels like. When he tries to speak again, he can only make a helpless sound. His movements are jerky; his body wants _more_ and he's pushing in further, but he won't hurt Tommy. _I'm sorry_, he wants to say, but his vocabulary has left him.

"Keep going," Tommy whispers roughly, biting kisses against Adam's jaw. "Keep, keep, keep." He hooks a leg around Adam's, his heel sitting against the back of Adam's knee, and with his other foot against the bed - _their_ bed - he lifts himself up to Adam, pressing them body to body and nearly hip to hip. "Keep going, angel." His breathing is open-mouthed and quick, hands finally settling around the cage of Adam's ribs.

When Adam's hips are pressed snug up against Tommy's body, Adam can barely breathe. His own body feels like it can barely contain a riot inside; he feels almost frantic between what his instincts tell him to do and what he wants to do and how this is nothing really like the videos; those people stretch it out and he feels as if he's going to turn inside out in a matter of seconds. "Tommy," he whispers, half-apology, half-sigh, as he begins to move, his lips to, yes, to his lover's.

"Slow." It's the only advice Tommy can give, when he feels full to the point of breaking, almost, and there _is_ some pain, but nothing that isn't outweighed by the press of pleasure between their bodies, or the taste of Adam's mouth and how it feels on Tommy's. If they go slow, then they can draw it out, maybe, like in the videos. Yes, with his other heel on the bed, he can push up, meeting the meter of Adam's thrusts, and his sounds turn trembled and low and helpless. "Oh, God." It's not meant as a blasphemy, but he can't _help_ it.

_Slow_ Tommy says, but the way his body moves makes Adam feel even more helpless. His eyes fall shut, his brows knit together and he fists his hands in the covers next to Tommy's ears. _I'm sorry_ is what he wants to say, again, but all sounds are inarticulate, high and tight. Words like _love_ and _yes_ are what he thinks.

The squeak of the bed gets louder, faster as Adam gives over to primal urges that he doesn't pretend to understand.

Oh, God (there it is again, sorry Up There). It's good, it's good, it's _good_, Tommy thinks, but it's not _quite_ enough. Not when he knows from the way Adam's moving that it's _close_ for him. So Tommy gets his hand between them and strokes himself, and Adam can feel the way he almost shivers upward, back arched with a breathed out _yes_, body tightening with fingers and legs and clenched up around Adam himself. If Adam goes first, then Tommy will follow. If it's the other way around, that's just as good; that's how it's been since humanity came down on them. One of them always leads when the other isn't sure of himself.

It's the shiver that has Adam's teeth clacking together and he comes. He knows what that feels like but _this_ is more than that. This is even stronger, even more intense and it's all he can do not to cry out, though it feels like every part of his body is screaming, _this - this is why We Fell. This_. And in that blitz of a moment, he understands.

The bliss that shoots across Adam's face like stars falling from the heavens has Tommy rapt, just for a moment, just long enough to feel _why_ Adam looks that way. It feels like a secret all on its own, a whisper to convince him that what they've done is _right_, and after a minute of gasping open-mouthed and wide-eyed up at Adam, Tommy realizes that his own hand is still moving, and he squeezes, giving that extra pressure, extra friction, and "_God-!_" It's right there, as bright and blinding as that which had made him human, and more intense than anything he could have imagined. Tommy jerks his hand away and uses Adam's weight to draw out his orgasm.

Even minutes later, Adam's still breathing hard and sweat is beading at the roots of his hair. He's still rocking his hips because even that feels better than good and his forehead rests against Tommy's. "I ... I ... I." He still doesn't have words. "Tommy."

All Tommy can do is kiss Adam, fingertips skimming the sweat from his skin back into his hair. He's shaking and he knows it, body sensitive to how Adam's moving, and yet he can't bring himself to ask Adam to stop. Because he doesn't _want_ him to. He wants Adam to stay where he is until they can try doing this _again_, even if it hurts just a little bit right now.

"I love you," Adam says quietly between kisses. In what feels like a _glow_ after, he can't not say it. And oh, yes, he wants to do it again even if he feels weak and wobbly right now. His smile when it comes, is not like one Tommy's seen before.

It makes Tommy smile in answer, just an upward quirk of his lips. "What?" The sun blazes in the unadorned window, and they're high enough to have privacy from strangers, but right now the light slashes through Adam's hair in bright darts, highlights his skin and makes his eyes look almost clear. If this is what love is, truly, then Tommy's content with it. If he could just... feel like this until his humanity ends, then it'll be worth it.

Adam confesses, "I want to do that again." To chase that sensation again. To revel in what it is to be human. Soon, he will move, but not far. They have the rest of the day before they have to go to work. They make macaroni and cheese and don't burn it and they eat it in bed until that's set aside and they get better at stretching out the time, just like the men do in the videos.


	24. Chapter 24

It's a good thing that Adam works at a coffee shop, because now Tommy _needs_ that coffee with all the late nights he and Adam have. He's found he loves how Adam's hair feels in his fingers when they're clenched in fists, and how their bodies fit together, chest to back. Every so often, he wonders if Adam can See yet, or if he ever will, but he keeps these thoughts to himself. He's also found he likes video games, heavy metal, and horror movies. Especially if one, or all of them, involves zombies. He also loves Jeff Buckley, but not as a zombie. Tommy plays guitar and Adam sings, and a lot of the time it's the music they listen to, but sometimes if Tommy's just playing whatever he's made up, he hears Adam humming along. It's the most startling reminder that Adam was an angel.

Their life is simple. Work and each other's company. They get a small TV when they can afford it, but they hardly watch it, preferring instead to go to the movies, the early shows that are cheaper, and they sit low in their seats and stare at the big screen and what plays out on it. Adam isn't the fan of the horror movies, but he goes to keep Tommy company, just in the worst parts, he looks away. They find they love Chinese food eaten from cardboard boxes as they sit on the bed, cross-legged, their knees touching. They go to the Allen's for dinner every few weeks and have them over too, slaving over Hamburger Helper which shouldn't be as complicated as it turns out to be. But Adam finds that he smiles easily.

Things are settled enough that one Saturday when Tommy gets home, Adam says, "I think we should go to the church."

Hamburger Helper is stupid, forever. Tommy would like anyone Up There to take note of that, please. But it's awesome seeing Kris and Katy, even if he's not sure what Kris sees between he and Adam anymore. If Tommy's black and Adam's white, or if their 'fraternizing' has changed that, somehow. Tommy flicks off his hat and yanks his shirt over his head. He's pretty sure he smells like french fries, and that means it's time for laundry. Adam's words stop him, just as he's pulling at his belt. "What? Ch- you want to go back?"

"I want to see Emmie," Adam tells him. But it's more than that. He wants to know how it will feel. They've been human for over a year now. What would it feel like to go back? "I want to know what it's like to ... be in there. I ... " He doesn't know how better to explain it. "I have shoes now. Please go with me." Crossing to where Tommy is, Adam takes his hands. "Just once."

The last time they'd been in church, Adam had been barefoot. Tommy remembers that night. Sometimes he dreams about it, but not often, and never badly. It's always with a sense of freedom, and maybe a little bit of thanks for being shown how precious life can be. "Okay," he nods, and then kisses each of Adam's hands. "I'd love to see Emmie. I bet she's pretty tall now." A year that had flown by like nothing at all, an amazing, humbling year. Tommy barely remembers the things he'd done before in favour of the life he has, now.

With a smile, Adam pulls Tommy toward the bathroom and the bathtub. "Thank you," he says, because if they go to church, they _do_ have much to be thankful for.

As it turns out, they're nearly late to the service because of the change in bus service on Sundays, but Adam and Tommy step into the church to hear the organ music playing, and they slip into the back row. Just as they sit, Adam looks up and sees Emmie, older, yes, taller, coming running down the aisle toward them, much to what seems to be her father's chagrin.

"You finally came back!" she exclaims, patting at their knees. "I waited and waited! You still don't have your wings, huh? They didn't come back?"

"Jeez, come here and sit with us. I think your dad wants to get started." Tommy's dressed in what he'd consider to be his Sunday best: a skinny black tshirt with a hoodie overtop, and over that, a nice jacket. Nice-ish. "No," he whispers, once she's sitting. "We didn't get them back. But that's okay. And we're here now. Adam wanted to see you."

"I did," Adam tells her, smiling as the girl gets settled between them to sit, her hands on each of their knees like a princess. But they can talk later. The service is starting, even though Pastor Haley seems nervous, glancing back at them. Adam's got a sweater on from the same thrift shop where Tommy got his jacket, but their clothes are clean, they've shaved and their hair is trimmed; they are entirely respectable.

The service is alternately less and more than what Adam expected. The organ music is tinny to his ears, but singing, the hymn book held between them, even if Emmie knows all the songs by heart, is peaceful. His attention drifts during the sermon to the people and how they respond.

He'd been so focused Before, that now, he finds, he just watches people, how they respond. Adam is still learning, but he trusts how he feels and some people seem sincere, others seem distracted (like himself, he supposes). Emmie even starts to fidget, seeming to find Tommy's fingers fascinating and she toys with them as she tells a story in a barely audible whisper, so that's what Adam watches, a small, content smile on his face.

Tommy lets his fingers be played with, smiling down at Emmie in snatches between listening to what Haley has to say and what Emmie might be saying. A child that Sees could talk about anything at all and it could be important. But it's also sweet and innocent, and looking up from Emmie, Tommy just happens to catch Adam's eyes. He smiles.

When the sermon's over, Tommy has the urge to slip out as quickly as they'd slipped in, but he wants to talk to Pastor Haley as well, give him his daughter back. She'd sat through the entire sermon with Adam and Tommy, picking lint off of Adam's sweater when Tommy's fingers lost their appeal. "I think this kid belongs to you, Mr. Haley," Tommy starts, looking down at Emmie.

"She does," the pastor answers, blustering just a bit as he reaches for her, even though she stays firmly planted between Adam and Tommy, a hand in each of theirs. He opens his mouth to say more, but nothing comes out.

That's when Adam steps forward. "Thank you," he says, cocking his head to meet the minister's eyes. "We know you were afraid of us and you did help us. So thank you." And he offers his hand. Only Tommy can see the slight challenge in the curve of Adam's shoulders. What kind of man of god is Haley if he doesn't shake hands?

But he does, granted jerkily, before he reaches for his daughter again.

Tommy's impressed on some level, even though he knows that the pastor's still wary of what they were when they'd met. They _aren't_ angels (not that Tommy was one in the first place), not anymore. And not to anyone but each other and Kris Allen. He's proud of Adam for, well, turning the other cheek when it came to how Pastor Haley had treated them, and he's glad that Haley has the decency to shake Adam's hand. "Thank you," he adds, squeezing Emmie's hand before letting go to offer his own hand to the minister. "You helped, yeah. What Adam said." His smile, he hopes, is disarming.

"It was nice of you boys to come to church," Haley tells them. "God and his wisdom- "

"Knows far more than you," says Adam and he turns away, bending down to look Emmie in the eye. "I'm glad to see you again. We'll visit soon, okay?"

"Okay," she answers and she hugs him around the neck before turning to Tommy with her arms spread wide.

Oh, snap. But Tommy leans down and picks Emmie up to hug her, and okay, it's not a huge lift, but it still has her up in the air for a minute before he sets her down. "Thank _you_," he tells her, looking at her very seriously. She'd believed them. She still _does_ believe in them. "We'll definitely see you soon. Be good." He straightens up next to Adam and looks up at him. "Ready to go? I've gotta work tonight..." Which means that he wants some time with Adam before he goes in and comes home smelling like fries and Big Mac sauce. Somehow, Big Macs have lost their appeal to Tommy. He wonders why.

"Yes, I'm ready." Adam looks around the church then reaches for Tommy's hand. "Let's go." There is, he realizes, even if he can no longer see what Tommy can, that there is very little of God in this place. Except for Emmie. He gives the girl a wave and he and Tommy leave the church to head for the bus stop.

At the bus stop, Tommy slides his arm around Adam's waist, oblivious to the looks they get from the other people waiting. This is his salvation, this is what's good to Tommy. This is... "Hey, look at this." Some kind of ad for a show, like America's Got Talent, announcing auditions in the area. For a second, Tommy almost asks Adam if he wants to do it. Just because. The date on the ad is in three weeks. Tommy looks up at Adam with an eyebrow raised, and knows he doesn't really have to say anything at all.

"What is it?" Adam asks as he scans the page. "... auditions?" Megan at work had been talking about this, he realizes. Talked about how you sing or perform for judges and if you're good enough, you go to Hollywood to compete on television. She was very excited when she talked about it. "Do you want to?" He asks, running his hand along Tommy's arm.

"If you want to do it with me, sure. I mean, what's the worst they're gonna say? That we're not good enough yet?" Tommy snorts. "No big deal, right?" The bus comes and they get on, knowing the lines by now easily enough that they can keep talking without watching where the stops are. "I mean, I could play guitar and you could sing, and... you know. We could see what happens." He sits up close to Adam on the bus, hip to hip, comfortable with letting his fingers play with the tips of Adam's own, almost the same way Emmie had played with Tommy's in church.

"I don't suppose it could hurt," Adam says, watching their fingers with that same small, happy smile. "We have to make sure we don't work on that day. Megan says you have get there very early because there will be thousands of people there. What song would we do?" He's never sang for more than the people at Bolger House.

"I don't know." It's just an idea right now; something to think about. In honesty, Tommy doesn't think they'd be quite good enough for television. Well, not himself. Maybe Adam, with that voice of his. And _how_ he sings, like he feels every word he's saying. He's passionate, and thinking about passion makes Tommy's face feel warm. It's probably a good thing to think about passion and Adam's voice at the same time, in public. "Go through what you wanna do when I'm at work and we can figure it out when I get home?"

"So, we'll do it." And Adam isn't upset or nervous. He nods, squeezing Tommy's fingers. "All right." And with that, he puts his arm around Tommy's shoulders as he leans against the window. That way he can watch the passing scenery and not be cold; Tommy keeps him warm.


	25. Chapter 25

The auditions are on April 8th and Megan was right. When Tommy, carrying his guitar, and Adam get to the building where the auditions are, the line, eight wide at least, spans around the building, even though the sun hasn't risen yet. Adam blinks back his surprise and he and Tommy take their place. The people around them are friendly. There's Danny and Matt and a mother named Lil. They talk excitedly about what this chance means to them. Adam smiles and tells them he's sure they'll do well, even though he has no idea. And he holds Tommy's hand.

It means different things to different people, but the one common thing is, they're doing it because they _love_ it. Tommy does a coffee run two hours into the wait, picking one each for himself and Adam, and one each for the people they've met. There's a girl named Allison that Tommy talks to, about Janis Joplin and Foghat, and he even whips out a couple of chords of Slow Ride, laughing when Adam joins in to sing. Yeah, there's competition here, he can sense it with the other people, but when he looks up at Adam, all Tommy feels is... good. If they make it, awesome. If they don't, well... they've got a life they're working on just fine, right here, right now. But finally, they're called.

The first room they're in is small and the people are clearly distracted. It's fascinating to watch, actually. But Adam watches Tommy play instead, and he starts to sing, more looking at his lover then the people who don't care. But they only get a few lines in before they're told to be quiet, given a piece of paper and sent to the left.

"Sorry?" Adam asks, confused.

"You're moving on. Just wait to the left, okay? Thanks."

"Um." Adam blinks at Tommy. "Thanks."

All Tommy can do is shrug with a little sideways smile. It's not a bad thing that they got passed on so fast, and he leans against Adam, guitar pushed around his back so it's not in the way. "Guess they make decisions fast, huh?" His fingers touch the inside of Adam's wrist, then tickle against his palm, then fall to Tommy's side. There's this suspicion that these judges don't want to see them 'fraternizing' either, but Adam does smile back at him.

The next audition is just a little longer than that one, and they're asked about themselves, something interesting to tell to the judges, then told to get lunch and be back at 3, so they go around the corner to a Subway there and they sit in the corner. Adam looks as baffled as he feels. It's all happened so fast. "I guess we're going on TV, now?"

"That's... pretty insane." Tommy laughs. Not that long ago, they'd both been considered insane, so maybe this is fitting. To make music that _everyone_ can hear kind of feels like giving a gift, and now that he thinks about it, it feels fucking _good._ There are so many good things about being human, being _alive_ that he almost can't believe he'd been the one to convince people to simply give that gift away, whether it was along the blade of a razor, around the barrel of a gun, or at the end of a rope. And Subway, okay? Is so much better than McDonalds. Shh.

"I ... There are so many people there, and they all ... they were so desperate some of them," Adam whispered, reaching under the table for Tommy's hand. "Did you feel it? It's sad, too. And for the others ... " They don't even know what happened to the others they'd met this morning. "It's a bit much."

"Some people do need that sort of thing. I just think that maybe... I don't know. I don't want to say that this is what we might have been meant to do, you know? But everything that's happened since Bolger has led us here. Why do you sing? Why do I play guitar? Why did we see that flier? I mean, it'd have been just as easy if we'd been turned away, or if they'd said no." Tommy digs into his sandwich that has a whole lot of everything on it, and touches his foot to the outside of Adam's ankle. If they can't hold hands (hard to do that when both hands are being used to hold a sandwich! But it still takes a minute for Tommy to let go), even under a table, then at least they can touch.

"Fate?" Adam asks, considering that as he eats a chip. It could be. Humans aren't given much to go on. "Then I suppose," he says, "we should do our very best. We don't have anything to lose, after all." He eats; it turns out he's starving.


	26. Chapter 26

Adam and Tommy are let backstage with the other finalists from the city and told to go to the "green room." None of the people they'd sat with first thing that morning are there. Make up artists powder their noses. Tommy tunes his guitar. Finally at nearly 5 PM, they're called to go on stage. Adam takes a deep breath and looks at Tommy. It's time.

The stage is huge and empty when they walk on. The auditorium is dark.

"Who are you?" They hear.

"Tommy Joe Ratliff and Adam Lambert." Tommy stands behind Adam, letting him have center stage, because to him, Adam's the focus. Tommy's the support. "We thought we'd do, um. A song that Jeff Buckley covered... Leonard Cohen." With a smile in Adam's direction, Tommy plays that first, secret chord and in that moment Adam held the microphone and watched Tommy play. In that moment, his attention narrows just to him. The room is silent.

When Adam starts to sing, he nearly forgets to sing into the microphone until a look from Tommy reminds him.

_Well I heard there was a secret chord  
That David played, and it pleased the Lord  
But you don't really care for music, do ya?  
Well it goes like this  
The fourth, the fifth  
The minor fall and the major lift  
The baffled king composing Hallelujah_

Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah

At some point, Adam even closes his eyes as he sings. And still, it's quiet. Neither he nor Tommy know how rare that is.

_Well Your faith was strong but you needed proof_ Adam always think of Emmie when he sings that line, and he smiles.

_You saw her bathing on the roof  
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you  
she tied you to her kitchen chair  
And she broke your throne and she cut your hair  
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah_

Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah

_Hallelujah,_ Tommy mouths along. _Hallelujah, hallelujah._ He's grateful. For Adam, for this chance, for being shown how amazing humans really are, when all he'd thought of them as before was... expendable.

_Well baby I've been here before  
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor  
I used to live alone before I knew ya  
I've seen your flag on the marble arch  
Love is not a victory march  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah

Well there was a time when you let me know  
What's really going on below  
But now you never show that to me do you?  
And remember when I moved in you?  
And the holy dove was moving too  
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah

Well maybe there's a God above  
But all I've ever learned from love  
Was how to shoot somebody who'd OUT DREW YA  
And it's not a cry that you hear at night  
It's not somebody who's seen in the light  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah

Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah

Hallelujah  
Hallelujah  
Hallelujah...

By the end of the song, Tommy's _grinning_, because Adam fucking _nailed_ it, okay? The first round where they'd been pushed to the side as fast as they'd been in front of the tryouts had been almost too easy, and to hear Adam break out Jeff Buckley (okay, it's actually Leonard Cohen) is nothing short of _incredible._ When he plays the last chord (and it pleased the Lord), he rests his hands loosely on the body of his guitar, waiting for what the judges have to say. If they say no, he and Adam go home. If they say yes.... they go home. And then figure out what's next.

There's a silence that stretches out though, nearly ten seconds. Adam looks at Tommy then out into the dark. And at that, that's when the applause starts. And it builds and it builds and the house lights go up and everyone in the audience is _standing_ up, even the judges. Adam _laughs_ in surprise and he gestures for Tommy to come closer. They're together in this. The lights are _so bright_.

"You sing like an angel!" The judge says at the table and Adam laughs again. "That's a yes for me!"

"Yes!"

"Yes!"

"Three yes's. You boys are coming to Hollywood!"

Tommy forgets that there might be cameras filming this. "Are you _shitting_ me?! We made it?" Adam, who sings like an angel. Of course. _I love you._ He slides his guitar around his back to stand beside Adam, nearly thrumming with excitement. "When do we go? What do we bring?" Adam's laugh makes Tommy laugh, and fuck, he's so _proud_ of him. "Do we, like, have to go home and pack right this second?" Are they allowed to travel like humans do? Before, it'd just been in a thought, and they could be anywhere. For some reason, Tommy's scared to fly.

There's a wave of laughter that rolls through the room and Adam doesn't know quite what's so funny, after all, those are good questions, but someone appears at Tommy's side and starts to pull them off. "All your questions will be answered, boys, don't worry!" The judge calls.

When the clip airs, Tommy's "shit" is bleeped out. When it gets posted to youtube, it takes off like wildfire, logging thousands of hits per day.

But back in their apartment, Adam and Tommy have a TV, but they don't watch it. They sit with Chinese in the quiet. For Adam at least, even with all the paperwork, it hasn't quite sunk in yet, that they are going to Hollywood, California, to be on television and to compete. They have to fly in a plane and quit their jobs. He likes his job.

To be honest, Tommy's tired of flipping burgers. The novelty wore off about two weeks after he got the job, and he's at the point where he never wants to see a Big Mac again. Ever. Please. He's okay with quitting his job. Once he's stuffed with Chinese food (with plenty left over for when he's hungry again in ten minutes), he pokes his chopsticks into a box of lo mein and sets it aside to lie back on the bed, hands laced over his stomach. "It's funny that Hallelujah was the song that got us." Not ha-ha funny, but just... strange. "You were fucking killer, by the way."

It still feels strange when Tommy curses, but Adam doesn't say anything. He lies back too and remembers what it felt like to be up there and that applause that went on and on. "I was singing for you." That the song is named Hallelujah is simply a coincidence, he thinks. He finds and holds Tommy's hand, thinking another of another song that Tommy played once. "What a long, strange trip it's been."

Tommy rolls on his side to look at Adam, letting go of his hand in favour of setting a palm on his lover's stomach, instead. "And I play because you sing. Because it sounds right together." By leaning in a little further, he can kiss Adam, once, twice, a third time before pulling back, heavy-eyed. "What do you think it'll be like?" While Adam thinks about an answer, Tommy trails soft, open kisses along Adam's jaw and down his neck.

Except that Adam has trouble thinking when Tommy kisses him like that. "I didn't know... " And instead, he turns his head and finds Tommy's mouth again. There is, he thinks, a heaven on earth. He's found it and he is, he thinks, so blessed.


	27. Chapter 27

On July 7 (there is no coincidence to the numbers, so few things are left to chance. Humans have a hard time understanding this), Adam Lambert and Tommy Joe Ratliff are picked as the winners of Talent Factor. They are given a recording contract and are told to sign with agents, to get publicists and that they're going to be on the cover of _Entertainment Weekly_. They have a huge following, millions of fans, many of whom will say that there is "_something about the way they sing their songs and play! It's amazing!_"

Adam and Tommy are given advice on how to dress, how to stand, how to cut and color their hair, how to answer questions and there are so many _questions_, many of which they have to make up answers for.

Through due diligence, their time at Poughkeepsie County Hospital is buried, sealed up, but they don't know for how long. Everyone around them seems tense, always high-strung. When Adam feels the tension threaten, he looks to Tommy who calms him.

Tommy finds himself wearing _eyeliner_, which is kind of weird at first, but, like everything else, he's getting used to it. Adam's covered in glitter and smokey eyeshadow, and sometimes he's so gorgeous that Tommy can only look at him in snatches and glances. They've got other musicians to back them up, a drummer and a bassist and someone who plays keyboards, but when they perform on shows and on stage, Tommy leans on Adam and Adam returns the favor. After the performances is Tommy's favorite, though, when they're both hot and grinning and pumped up on adrenaline and the subtle way they touch each other that goes _far_ deeper than what's obvious. The first time he hears the word 'Lambliff', he just about snorks Coke out his nose because he's laughing so hard.

But at the same time, it's scarier than anything he's done as a human, and scarier than a lot of things he'd done as a demon, because instead of shadows and secrets, it's spotlights and _them._ The two of them that just _work_ together. Something about the way they sing, the way they play. Dark and light, two halves of perfect balance.

There are cars and drivers now, security guards, bank accounts, retirement funds, cell phones, publicists, secretaries, and stylists. There's a house in the hills that their lawyer insists be in Adam's name only to keep the gossip rags away. It's big and surrounded by trees and decorated lavishly. But truth told, Adam and Tommy, when they're home, spend time in one room: the master bedroom, that's bigger than their apartment was. They still sit on the bed, cross-legged, their knees touching and eat Chinese.

Their first tour starts in two days and tomorrow, there will be assistants over to help them pack. Adam can't help but remember when they had a paper bag with everything they owned in it. Tomorrow, they will have bags upon bags upon bags and travel in first class. "I'm nervous," he tells Tommy as he pushes the hair back from his eyes.

"It's _unnatural_ for people to fly in airplanes," Tommy grumbles, looking in a drawer that's full of black shirts and striped hoodies. When the hell did he get all this stuff (please stop listening Down There, okay? Thanks)? The drawer's pushed shut and Tommy climbs on the bed next to Adam, and it's strange to have so much mattress when they sleep as close together as possible, in a knot of arms and legs and pillows and sheets. Damn, Tommy loves pillows. Is that weird? "What're you nervous about? I just... I'm kind of curious if Hollywood's going to be the same as I remember it. Being different now, you know?" It feels like every time they leave, there's something new, something different. Do things really change that fast? He picks up one of Adam's hands, examining the flawless, polished fingernails. His own are chipped and black; no matter when he gets them done, Tommy picks at them as a means of keeping his fingers busy.

"I think everything's different," Adam tells him as their fingers lace together. "Sometimes, I remember what was before and sometimes I can't at all; when there's so much going on, it's easy to forget and get lost, I think," he adds. "I'm nervous because there will be so many people. So much coming at us." On stage, he means, the energy that comes from those in the audience, the desperation, the need, the frantic quality of it. It drains him and energizes him at the same time. "What if we let people down?"

It makes Tommy laugh, but not because he thinks it's funny. It's because he knows that there's no way to please everyone, all the time. He kisses Adam's fingertips, one at a time. "I know what you mean, though. I'm not used to being... I don't know. To having this much attention. I don't know what it's going to be like though, to actually do it. I think what's happened so far has just... been a taste. And people handle it differently. Look at someone like Mick Jagger, who's been in the spotlight for like, fifty years. And then look at Kurt Cobain. Or Hendrix, or Jim Morrison. People who burn themselves out. I don't want that to happen to you."

The idea of burning out has, for them, a different meaning, though not really that much darker. Adam watches that Tommy, feeling that heat stir in his hips and he chews at the corner of his lower lip. "We'll take care of each other." Before, they took care of wayward humans; now they aren't that much different. "Do you think this is our Destiny?"

Tommy glances up at Adam, flashing him a smile that's just barely dimpled. "Yeah, maybe it is. Because... what Kris said. People freak out when they're shown proof that God exists. So maybe that's what we're supposed to be doing. That... no matter what you are or what you do, or whatever, you know? It's okay. That you'll be in His good graces." He knows that so many of the things that he and Adam do, especially in private, are considered sins, but at the same time, if they're made in God's image, then what they do is God's act, as well. He knows Adam's looking at him, so, deliberately, Tommy flicks the tip of is tongue against the pad of Adam's middle finger and with that, hears Adam gasp.

"I don't want to be a representative," Adam says, when he catches his breath. "I want ... " He loves to sing and he loves Tommy (and Chinese food). He has those things. Perhaps life is simple after all. All he has to do is set aside the cartons and push Tommy back onto the bed and with that, he can forget his nerves, knowing only the taste, the feel, the scent of his lover's skin.


	28. Epilogue

When they take the stage the first night of the tour, in Los Angeles, at the Staples Center, Adam imagines that somewhere Nathan Harriday is watching. Perhaps he's sitting in the rafters; Adam even shades his eyes to look, as he says, "Hello, everyone. And welcome to our show." He's dressed in glittering white, Tommy in sleek black. But they are nothing like they were before. And that suits him _just fine_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Adam first sings to Tommy, he's singing The Fray's "You Found Me." And of course, "Hallelujah" is by Leonard Cohen, but we are imagining [Jeff Buckley's version.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8AWFf7EAc4)


End file.
